


falling in reverse

by alittlepeculiar_afterdark (alittlepeculiar)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Byleth struggles with emotions, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheating, Consent Issues, Eventual Sex, F/M, Felix is frustrated, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jeralt Reus Eisner Lives, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory Negotiations, Sylvain Jose Gautier Being An Idiot, Threesome, awkwardness of being married to a stranger, but only in one chapter and is skippable, consent issues are because of the arranged marriage but sex is consensual, imbalanced relationship dynamics, no beta we die like Glenn, tags make this sound darker than it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22856929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepeculiar/pseuds/alittlepeculiar_afterdark
Summary: Sylvain Jose Gautier, heir to the Gautier Margravate and wielder of the Lance of Ruin, is forced into an arranged marriage with Byleth Eisner, Archbishop Rhea's long-lost niece and wielder of the Sword of the Creator. Done to save the crumbling relationship between the Church and Kingdom and to provide House Gautier with Crest bearing heirs, the marriage seems like a match made by the goddess to those on the outside.Except Sylvain and Byleth seem to want nothing to do with each other, Felix and Sylvain are still in love, and other unseen barriers stand in the way of the three people’s happiness.Updates are random
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier/My Unit | Byleth, Sylvain Jose Gautier/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 151
Kudos: 289





	1. Sylvain's Very Bad, No Good Day

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I wanted to write something where Sylvain's fear of being forced into an arranged marriage comes true and Byleth is forced into a life she never imagined. It definitely starts out more angsty and gets happier because let's be real, Sylvain is traumatized by his upbringing and Byleth just wants to stay single and let her hair flow in the wind as she rides through the glen firing arrows into the sunset
> 
> But I promise it will get happier! They will fall in love! They will be happy! There will be smut! It'll be great ;)

Today was by far the worst day of Sylvain’s life. Even the time Miklan stole the Lance of Ruin paled in comparison to the reality of getting married. He’d done his best to ruin all marriage prospects his parents had put forth, but he’d only been fighting the inevitable.

Even his reputation did nothing to dissuade the match between him and Archbishop Rhea’s long-lost niece. As far as everyone else was concerned, getting married would force him to settle down. His parents didn’t care if he strayed from his marriage bed as long as he also spent some time in it too. Sylvain wasn’t sure how the Archbishop felt about that, but after the wedding in the Monastery, her dear niece would be shipped north to Gautier territory and her reach was weak up there.

A part of him felt bad for his bride-to-be. From what he remembered from the various briefings his parents had given him, the woman had been raised by her father as a mercenary. She’d only found out about her Crest and her relation to the Archbishop a few years ago. The info about her Crest was what stood out to Sylvain. He couldn’t imagine growing up without knowing about Crests. It seemed freeing. It seemed incredibly spoiled. No pressures of duty, no older brother hating you for stealing his inheritance, no reality that your goal was to knock up a woman with as many Crest babies as possible.

He assumed that since she was pretty much the Archbishop’s only family, this had been her idea. She must’ve wanted the title, the power, the seemingly cushy life of nobility. She’d tasted what she could have with a Crest seemingly lost to history and Sylvain was her ticket to securing all of that wrapped up in a nice little title.

It disgusted him. But he’d been warned again and again to play nice, to remember his duty. And if there was one thing Sylvain had learned over the years, it was how to make a woman fall in love with him. His only issue was that this woman wasn’t one he could dump. Short of a tragic accident, they’d be stuck with each other until one of them croaked.

But he’d still have his friends and once he knocked her up, his parents would be off his back. And she wasn’t weirdly young like some other pairings he’d seen. If he remembered correctly, she was almost a full year older than him.

The bell tolled, jarring Sylvain out of his downward spiral of self-pity and hate. His father opened the door and appraised him. Seemingly satisfied with Sylvain’s forcibly gelled hair, he nodded and then jerked his head, indicating Sylvain should leave.

It was time. The knot in his gut tightened and he walked out.

Sylvain entered from the east and saw who he assumed to be his bride entering from the west. He hadn’t had the chance to meet her and this far away with the packed pews between them, he couldn’t make out much. What he did notice was her stern-faced father, Jeralt the Blade breaker, who looked just as menacing as all the rumors made him out to be.

The voices of the choir swelled as the four figures came to stop in front of the Archbishop. His father and Jeralt shook hands and then they retreated, leaving Sylvain almost alone with his soon to be wife. This close, he noticed she was short, barely coming up to his chin even in the heeled boots she wore. He also noticed just how ample her bust was. That he could work with.

The Archbishop welcomed everyone in attendance and then indicated that Sylvain should unveil his bride. He did so slowly, drawing out the process as much as possible to take in her appearance. She was doe eyed with pale green hair and eyes, which erased any doubts he had about her not being related to Rhea. Her face was carefully blank, and it took Sylvain to remember both her name and nickname. Byleth the Ashen Demon. And Ashen was right. He wasn’t sure if it was the lighting or something else, but she was pale.

His appraisal ended Archbishop handed him a candle and another was given to Byleth. Sylvain didn’t bother to pay attention to the bullshit being said. Instead, he focused on the dripping wax and slight sway in Byleth’s stance.

When offered his wedding ring, he took it and slipped it on as Byleth mirrored his movements. Then their candles were taken away and Rhea indicated that they should hold hands. Sylvain offered his left hand, palm side up, and Byleth placed her hand in his. Her hand was comically small in comparison to his, but the calluses on her hand gave him pause.  
Hands clasped and facing each other, it was finally time to promise themselves to each other.

“Under the light of the Goddess I promise to love and protect you. I will cherish you for all the days we have each other and …” Sylvain easily repeated the vows his father had drilled into him, projecting so their audience would have a good show.

Byleth’s voice was quieter but just as strong. She said her vows with only a slight pause when it came to her part about children. Interesting.

And then Rhea was wrapping their clasped hands together in a scarf with the Crest of Gautier embroidered on it. She led them in a procession five times around the table where their candles were placed, once for each of the Saints.

When they stopped in front of the table, Sylvain was already moving as Rhea proclaimed that their marriage would be finally sealed with a kiss. He brought his hands to Byleth’s face, which brought one of her own up with his, and ducked to press their lips together. She was stiff at first, but relaxed and with practiced ease, he slipped his tongue into her mouth. Someone in the crowd whooped and Sylvain didn’t hide the grin as he broke off the kiss. He had a reputation to uphold after all.

Unsurprisingly, his father looked on with exasperation. Far more interesting was the still neutral face of his now wife and the murderous intent radiating off Rhea.

But she didn’t have the opportunity to act on it before Sylvain and Byleth were whisked off to the banquet with their hands still tied together. They were seated at an intimate table just for the two of them on a raised dais. Waiting for them was food and already poured shots.

After everyone was seated, they stood again, each of them grabbing a shot.

“Welcome!” Sylvain said, his voice carrying through the hall. “It’s the day I’m sure some of you never thought would come and the day others have been counting down to. And even more of you are finally grateful your daughters and sons are safe from me.” That earned him raucous laughs from most of the crowd and a barely perceptible shifting of Byleth’s hand against his.

“Today is a day worth celebrating and I hope all of you have great time. I know I will.” Another round of laughter and he turned to look at his new wife with a smile plastered to his face. “And now to my beautiful wife who is lucky to have a husband such as handsome as me.”

“Thank you all for coming,” Byleth said. Her voice was louder than it was at the ceremony. “I am grateful for all of you celebrating this special day with us.” She raised her glass high in the air. “To this new path my husband and I tread together. To the renewal of the bonds between the Church of Seiros and the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.”

Byleth knocked back her shot easily and Sylvain was only a second behind in finishing his. The alcohol burned as it worked his way down his throat and then the crowd was chanting kiss over and over again. He made a show of waiting for the chanting to build even louder before dipping Byleth with one arm and kissing her as tradition demanded. This time, she was expecting it. She opened her mouth without prompting to deepen the kiss. Sylvain didn’t let up until he was practically dizzy and the taste of alcohol was almost gone. They broke apart to loud cheers and both of them a little out of breath.

With that, the banquet began in full force. They were forced to give another speech, each of them thanking their parents. Both of their toasts sounded generic with Byleth even getting choked up when she gave hers. Food and drink were passed around with various entertainers moving through the crowd. More toasts were given from guests.

So far, the most interesting had to be from one of the Knights of Seiros, Alois. Sylvain remembered the boisterous man from his time at the Academy. Today, Alois was plastered, and his speech was one long death threat about what would happen if Sylvain didn’t treat Byleth right. Byleth looked almost looked mortified which was the most expressive she’d been all day.

Next came the dancing. Sylvain didn’t dislike dancing, but he did dislike all the eyes on him and Byleth as they moved across the floor in the first dance. He much preferred to watch people dance than be one of the objects of attention like this, but it was a good opportunity to study his wife further. She’d been largely passive so far. He’d been the one to initiate all their kisses and she seemed content to go along with what he was doing.

Until now. Sylvain had danced enough to know when his partner was leading. Sure, it was his hand on her waist, but she wasn’t letting the slight change of pressure of his grip guide her. Instead, she was pulling him along. It was so subtle he doubted anyone else could notice. And he couldn’t deny that they probably looked better for it. She was an amazing dancer. Under other circumstances, he’d be appreciative of the way she moved, the way her dress flowed and accentuated her body, but her hand tied to his seemed to burn him.

They danced for a few more songs until the dancefloor was crowded and Sylvain was thirsty. Byleth clearly wanted to dance longer but she didn’t protest as he led her back to their table.

“You dance like a wave across the water,” he said. Not his best line, but it got his point across. It was also the first unprompted thing he had said to her.

“You dance well too,” she said.

“Not as well as you do, my flower.” That earned him a slight frown. It was so brief, if he hadn’t been watching for it, he wouldn’t have caught it.

“Thank you,” she said and turned to pick at her food. That line of conversation was over.

Sylvain didn’t care. Instead, he focused on enjoying himself and working the crowd. Every time he stole a kiss from Byleth, they’d cheer.

But the cheering made for stolen kisses was nothing compared to the cheering as he and Byleth were escorted to their chamber to consummate the marriage.

The door had barely shut behind them before Sylvain was unwrapping the scarf that tied their hands together. He let the scarf flutter to the ground as he massaged his hand. It had cramped being stuck like that for hours. Byleth seemed to be in the same boat, but her gaze was fixed on a stain Sylvain couldn’t see in the carpet. His gaze went towards the bed and he began the mental preparation of willing himself to fuck her.

Sure, he’d fucked numerous people he hadn’t been that into and Byleth certainly was a looker, but putting it in the context of him trying to pump a Crest baby into her left a sour taste in his mouth and his dick limp. He knew plenty of men with pregnancy kinks but any image he conjured of Byleth heavy with his child made him feel even worse rather than horny.

“We can’t consummate our marriage tonight,” she said, startling Sylvain out of his thoughts.

“What?” he said, still trying to process what she had said.

Her verdant eyes met his. “I’m bleeding,” she said simply, and his brain finally put it all together.

“I’ve fucked women during their cycles before,” he said with a shrug. “Fingered them and ate them out too.”

Byleth’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “What? I wasn’t –"

“Relax. If you aren’t comfortable with it, we can wait.” Internally, he was thanking the Goddess. Nothing would have made this day worse other than not being able to get it up.

“I’d like that.” Then she turned, showing her back to him. “Will you unlace me?”

“I thought you didn’t want to have sex,” he teased.

“I can’t get out of this dress on my own unless I ripped it.”

Sylvain took his time undoing the laces. He undoes more than he needed to, but it gave him the opportunity to study the creamy flesh it exposed and the scars that marred her form. He traced one particularly nasty looking one and Byleth shuddered.

“Arrow. It didn’t want to come out,” she said.

He returned to his work until the entire thing was unlaced and Byleth was forced to press the front to her chest lest it fall off her entirely.

“Thanks,” she said before retreating to the bathroom.

Sylvain took the time alone to strip himself of his ceremonial armor that Kingdom tradition demanded he wear. Without it he felt lighter and exposed. Byleth fit the ideal Faerghus noblewoman in the sense that he had no doubt that she’d be able to put him into the ground. But he doubted the Archbishop would go through this much trouble to marry him to his assassin.

His mind was fixated on the thought of her small hands around his neck when she emerged from the bathroom. She had removed the makeup and without it she looked less like a doll playing dress up and more like a person. Surprisingly, she looked better without it. Less surprising was the gauzy nightgown she wore. It was so sheer, he easily made out her nipples through the fabric.

Wordlessly, she moved across the room and into bed. Byleth laid down before sitting up again and looking at him.

“I’m exhausted. Is it okay if I sleep?” she asked.

Sylvain nodded and she laid back down. He took that as his cue to retreat to the bathroom and wash up. In the mirror, he saw that the dark circles his mother had tried to valiantly cover up with makeup were ever present. Other than that, he looked good. He knew he was attractive and even without his armor, he looked sharp in his wedding clothes.

It made him sick.

He washed his face and brushed his teeth before deciding to strip himself of all his clothes. Nightclothes had been left for him, but he’d started sleeping in the nude years ago and saw no reason to go back now.

Now cleaned up, he padded back into the bedroom and blew out the candles before slipping under the covers. Even with the slight moonlight streaming in through the window he could barely make out Byleth’s form. He stared at her back until sleep finally claimed him. He dreamt of broken lances and mint green rivers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if I need to tag something else! if you enjoyed please feel free to drop a kudos or a comment~


	2. Sylvain’s Very Bad, No Good Day Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the title suggests, here's another chapter from Sylvain's POV! One day my chapter titles will be more serious. One day.

Sylvain awoke far warmer than he was used to. Without opening his eyes, he could tell it was because of the warm body pressed against him. He was lying on his side with one hand cushioning his head and the other thrown across the sleeping form of his bed partner. His wife.

That thought had his eyes snapping open to stare at the woman he was now married to. They definitely hadn’t fallen asleep positioned like this. Sylvain rarely spent the night with any of his previous partners, so he wasn’t sure if he was the cuddler or if she was.

Unsurprisingly, he was half-hard, and his dick pressed against her thigh. The pressure was comfortable rather than teasing but still, Sylvain pulled away, awakening Byleth in the process. Her eyes were hazy with sleep for only a moment before sharpening into focus. He watched as her eyes trailed over his exposed skin before snapping to his face. Rather than excited she almost looked defensive.

“Sleep well?” he teased.

“Not really, no,” she said bluntly. She sat up and one of her hands prodded at her low stomach. Sylvain pieced it together.

“Do you want some tea for that?”

The slightly guarded expression was back on her face. Just a slight furrowing of her gaze gave it away, but Sylvain was quickly realizing that her expressions all tended to be micro rather than macro.

“I’ll be fine.”

He shrugged and sat up himself. His shoulders popped as he stretched them overhead before he slid out if bed to get dressed for the day. There would be a small banquet for breakfast and then they’d be off to the north to Faerghus.

Sylvain hadn’t wanted a honeymoon, but his mother had insisted until he’d finally agreed to a brief one in Fhirdiad. It meant he’d get a chance to harass Dimitri, Dedue, and some of his other friends before being shipped off to Gautier territory for the rest of the foreseeable future. It was only now that he realized that if he’d demanded a long honeymoon, he would’ve delayed his being stuck alone in the far north, but that would’ve been just delaying the inevitable.

He finished getting ready before Byleth did. She took a while in the bathroom, likely because she sounded like she had puked all her internal organs out. Which was very not sexy. As much as he disliked the woman for being his wife, he did feel bad that she was feeling so unwell. If all her cycles were this bad, it was even more unfortunate. Maybe if he ran into Mercedes in Fhirdiad he could ask her about it.

Byleth was pallid when she came out of the bathroom, but she smelled like mint. With her hair down and dressed in a far simpler gown than yesterday she almost looked comfortable. The black of it also suited her much better than the white had.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded and took his offered arm. The two of them walked out together and then Sylvain realized he had no clue where they were supposed to go. Having attended the Officer’s Academy years ago, he knew the layout of the Monastery, but he didn’t know how big the morning’s banquet was supposed to be which would affect where it would be.

Sensing his hesitation, Byleth tugged on his arm in the direction of the dining hall.

“Dining hall,” she said. “The students have been invited to come and go if they want to. I am, I mean, I was a professor here after all.”

Sylvain had forgotten that about her. She’d joined the staff a year after he had graduated, so they had never crossed paths. He also had noticed the correction. Oddly enough, she seemed saddened by the loss of her job. Strange.

They entered the dining hall and Byleth was immediately swarmed by students. The sight of all their uniforms had nostalgia shooting through him and he searched the small crowd for his friends who had been able to make the wedding. And there they were. Ingrid and Felix sat side by side, eating and chatting casually. Sylvain slid in next to Ingrid so he could keep an eye on Byleth and her ever growing hoard of adoring students.

“Congratulations and good morning,” Ingrid said, pausing in her clear enjoyment of breakfast. She had always complimented the Monastery’s food. He was less enthused to be eating it again.

“Your wife looks popular,” Felix said, not even looking at the group amassed around Byleth.

Ingrid nodded. “The Knights all speak very fondly of her as do the students. I’ve heard she’s beaten every single Knight in a duel more than once.”

“Even Catherine?” Felix asked. His tone was full of doubt.

“Even Catherine. They even used their Hero’s Relics once and Catherine still lost.”

“Huh,” Felix said which was as good as him saying he was impressed.

Sylvain was impressed too. Catherine was a name known throughout Fódlan for her prowess with and without her Heroes Relic. He wondered if his parents knew she was a good fighter. He should’ve paid more attention to his parents when they were telling him what they knew about Byleth.

“What else do you know about her?” Sylvain asked.

“Shouldn’t you be the one telling us?” Felix shot back. His brows were furrowed, and he was attacking his food with more anger than he had in a while.

“The things I know about her aren’t polite to share over breakfast,” he teased. They didn’t need to know that wasn’t true. Still, it must have been believable enough because Felix glared, and Ingrid elbowed him in the ribs.

“I hope you were nice to her,” Ingrid said.

“Hey, I was the perfect gentleman,” Sylvain said.

The looks his friends gave him told him they didn’t believe that.

“I really was. I swear.”

Felix’s glare softened but Ingrid’s face remained unchanged.

“Sylvain, for better or worse, you’re stuck with her,” Ingrid said. “You might as well be nice to her. Besides, she’s certainly more attractive than that scarecrow you flirted with.”

“It was one time.”

Ingrid’s response was drowned out by the booming shout of Byleth’s name. The crowd of students cleared as an armored figure charged her and then swept her up into a crushing hug. Alois. Sylvain remembered him from his time at the Academy and from his threatening toast last night. He had known Alois had a kid, but never pegged him for the Threatening Older Brother type. Especially since Byleth wasn’t even related to him. But judging by the choked but slight smile on Byleth’s face, it was a typical and even welcome act.

Eventually Byleth managed to get the knight to put her down and then Alois was talking animatedly at her. So animatedly that Sylvain missed the shadow fall over him until Felix kicked him in the shins.

“Rhea, I mean Archbishop, good morning,” he hastily said after turning to see just who was looming over him. He went to stand, as did his friends, but she stopped them with a quick gesture.

“No need for formalities, Sylvain. We are family now, so please call me Rhea.” The smile she gave didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I simply wanted to give you and Byleth my best wishes outside of the ceremony yesterday. I pray to the Goddess that your marriage will be a happy one.”

“So do I,” he said. “With a woman as beautiful as Byleth, I’m sure it will be easy to love her.”

Rhea’s smile widened and goose bumps popped up all over his flesh. It was like being stared down by a hungry Demonic Beast.

“Good. May the Goddess watch over you both.” With that she inclined her head and left. Like with Alois, the crowd parted for her but more like a boat cutting through the waves rather than a dash to get out of the way of a charging moose.

“What the fuck,” Sylvain said once Rhea was safely out of earshot.

“She’s worried, you idiot,” Felix said. “Her only family is being shipped to Faerghus married to a man who’s primarily known for his skirt chasing. Byleth doesn’t have any connections or friends up north. She’s going to be all alone and her only lifeline is you. You’d be scared too.” His words were harsh, and Sylvain felt they were unnecessary.

“Hey, she’s the one who chose this.”

“She chose being married to you as much as you chose being married to her,” Felix said.

“How do you know that?”

Ingrid sighed. “Do you not pay attention to anything that isn’t directly in front of you? The match was proposed to solidify the deteriorating relationship between the Church and Faerghus.”

“By whom?” he asked.

“Your parents,” Ingrid said. “The Knights said Rhea was reluctant to agree at first.”

“What about Byleth?”

“She disappeared for a week and then came back to accept.”

“Hmm.” Sylvain turned to study his new wife who was allegedly as unhappy as he was about their marriage. She didn’t seem unhappy speaking with Rhea and Alois. But when their eyes met, the small smile she gave him rang hollow.

The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach returned and he pushed away from the table. “I’m going to get food,” he said and didn’t bother waiting for a response.

If his compliments towards the cooks was less enthusiastic than it used to be, no one commented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain while writing this chapter:  
> Ingrid: One of the Knights saw Byleth take her shirt off in the shower and she said that Byleth has an 8-pack.  
> Felix: That Byleth was shredded.  
> Sylvain: What? That Knight is a liar. Byleth is a punk bitch. That woman looks like she weighs 30 pounds soaking wet underneath that little black dress.  
> Rhea: *comes out of nowhere and throws Sylvain through the wall*
> 
> Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be from Byleth's POV


	3. Ain't It Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth's take on the situation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is well! Updates will be slower with everything going on right now plus I had to redo my entire outline for this. 
> 
> Also I updated the tags so give those a look
> 
> EDIT 3/24/20 Altered a bit of the dialogue between Ingrid and Byleth

Byleth’s foot was in the stirrup, seconds away from mounting her horse when Margravine Gautier called her name. She hesitated for only a moment before putting her foot back on the ground and turning to face her new mother-in-law.

“Yes?” she asked.

“Why don’t you ride with me in the carriage? You look like you need some more rest and I would love the company.”

She wanted to say no. The only thing she had been looking forward to today was getting the chance to ride in the open air. It would have been refreshing and the ride would’ve taken her mind off the fact that her father hadn’t been well enough to see her off. But she was partially here to improve the relations between the Church and the Kingdom and that meant not acting like a mercenary in front of the in-laws.

“Okay,” she said.

“Fantastic.”

The Margravine called for a servant who took the reins out of Byleth’s hands and another ushered her inside the carriage after her mother-in-law. Byleth caught a glimpse of Sylvain mounted on his horse watching her before the door swung closed, trapping her in with the Margravine.

Said woman gave her a bright smile and Byleth noticed that her eyes were a darker shade of brown than Sylvain’s.

“Thank you for joining me. I broke my hip in a riding accident after Sylvain was born. The healers were able to fix it but there were complications. I’m no longer able to ride comfortably and it ended my chances of carrying another child.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Byleth said and it was true. It also made her feel like shit for considering turning her down. “Do you frequently have to ride alone?”

“Unfortunately, yes. My husband prefers to ride as does my son. And few of the servants have felt comfortable joining me. Only my handmaiden will, and she’s at home, preparing for your arrival.” Her mother-in-law somehow gave an even brighter smile.

“I do hope you’ll love the Gautier lands. They’re certainly cold, but one gets used to it after a while. Ah, here I am talking all about myself. I’d love to get to know you better.” She reached across the carriage and squeezed Byleth’s hands. “But first, if you’ll indulge me, how did my son treat you last night?”

Byleth’s limited dating experience prior to marriage had not prepared her to answer this question. In her experience, you did not tell parents whether or not you fucked their kid. Especially when she didn’t know what Sylvain’s relationship with his mother was like. She’d be appalled if Sylvain told Jeralt any details of their (currently nonexistent) sex life, so she assumed that went both ways.

“He was very kind. Gentle even,” she said as neutrally as possible, remembering how featherlight his fingers had been tracing her scar.

“Really?”

Byleth nodded and hoped the gesture came across as affirming rather than panicked.

“How surprising. I was sure he’d find a way to ruin your relationship from the start, before you had the chance to get pregnant.”

Byleth didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure how to. But she was suddenly aware that the woman in front of her saw her as little more than a womb for her son’s future heir.

“But enough about my son, tell me about yourself! Where did you grow up?” the Margravine asked.

“Nowhere in particular. All over Fodlan. We moved around a lot until we came to the Monastery.”

The next few hours passed painfully slowly as her new mother-in-law tried to draw out every little detail of Byleth’s life. Unfortunately for them both, Byleth’s talents did not lie in storytelling. The other woman practically lost her mind when she had admitted to not knowing her exact age until a few years ago. She had also been horrified when Byleth described some of her temporary living conditions. Sleeping out in the rain was apparently not something proper for a noblewoman, even one of the Kingdom. And there was the issue. She was not a noblewoman. She’d probably never be a good one.

Thankfully, Byleth got her chance to escape the conversation when their small caravan stopped for lunch. She snuck away to go to the bathroom and get some fresh air before the Margravine could snag her into sitting on the blanket a servant placed on the ground for them.

Byleth was washing her hands in a nearby stream when she felt eyes upon her back. The weight of her dagger was comforting against her thigh as she turned and saw a somewhat familiar woman. She’d seen Sylvain talking to her this morning and Rhea had mentioned her as a person to watch out for.

“Hello,” the woman said. “I hope I didn’t startle you. You may call me Ingrid. I was sent to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m Byleth.” She wiped her hands on her clothes. “Sorry you had to come look for me. I didn’t think I’d been gone that long.”

“The Margrave was worried regardless. You’re under the Gautier family’s protection now, so if something happened to you, it would reflect badly on them.”

That was an interesting choice of words. “I can take care of myself.”

The smile Ingrid offered was apologetic. “I know you can, but you must understand.”

Byleth did not understand, but she did understand that she was inconveniencing Ingrid.

“Let’s head back then.”

Ingrid’s shoulders dropped in relief. “Thank you.”

They walked in silence for a few moments before Byleth had to ask one of the questions circling her thoughts. 

“You and Sylvain seem close. Did you know each other growing up?” She knew the answer based on what Rhea had told her, but Byleth wanted to hear it from a direct source. 

“Yes. He, Felix, myself, and His Majesty all knew each other.”

“Felix?” Again, she knew the answer, but wanted to hear Ingrid's response. 

“The man sitting with us this morning.”

Byleth nodded, recalling the scowling man that had been with them. “I’m glad you all have each other then, even after all these years.”

Ingrid’s face soured. “Yes, I am too. Do you have any close friends?”

She thought back to everyone she had left behind at the Monastery and shook her head. “Not anymore I’m afraid.”

“It must be scary moving away from everything you’ve known. I know Sylvain has his,” she paused to search for the right word, “quirks but he’s nice once you get to know him.”

Another lull and Byleth focused on the sound of leaves crunching under her feet. Fall was here and winter was close. She was not excited to face the full brunt of winter in the Gautier territory. The feeling of the hot sun upon her skin was one of the best in the world and there’d be little of that with the world buried in snow.

A small sigh escaped her lips, but Ingrid either didn’t notice or was polite enough not to comment.

When they broke through the trees into the clearing where their party had stopped, Sylvain and Felix were waiting for them. Or Byleth assumed they had been before whatever argument had taken over.

Felix snatching his hand away and saying, “No, I refuse,” was all Byleth caught before the two friends noticed her and Ingrid’s approach.

“There you are, my rose,” Sylvain said. The insincerity was so obvious Byleth didn’t even have to look for it.

“Your rose?” she asked.

“For you are as lovely as one and just as sharp.”

“Sylvain,” Ingrid admonished.

“No, he’s right.” Byleth stepped forward until she was in his personal space. “I bite.” She said it quietly, but she was sure Ingrid and Felix still overheard. 

Sylvain definitely had heard. She watched his pupils dilate before walking away wordlessly. No one called after her.

*

Byleth didn’t speak to Sylvain again until they were alone in their tent for the evening. It was smaller than she had expected. His parents’ tent was huge, large enough to fit twenty people. But Sylvain’s, theirs, was normal sized, like the one she had used as a mercenary. It was both refreshing and unnerving.

It didn’t help that the two of them had barely exchanged words. At this point it felt like Byleth had spoken more with the Margravine and Ingrid than she had Sylvain. She just didn’t know what to say and when she hadn’t been the Margravine’s travel companion, her mind had been focused on her plan for tonight rather than Sylvain’s interests.

If she was at the Monastery, she’d ask people how they were doing, if they needed help with anything, offer some tips on how to better their stance, that sort of thing. She did small talk but that was over food or tea with friends, not someone she’d known for barely over a day. Not someone who didn’t know the main reason why their marriage had even happened.

But someone needed to make the effort and her new mother-in-law and Ingrid were right. Byleth knew no one in the Kingdom. Once the honeymoon was over, she’d essentially be alone in Gautier territory. It was either get to know Sylvain or his parents and the latter option seemed far less desirable. At least Sylvain sometimes looked at her like she was a person. That was a start.

“So,” Byleth said, her back to Sylvain’s as she changed out of her clothes, “do you enjoy gardening?”

“Not really, no,” he said. She could hear the rustling of the fabric of his shirt as he unbuttoned it.

“A favorite weapon?”

“Nope.”

Byleth closed her eyes and cursed mentally. Two for two so far. But what was the saying? Third time’s the charm?

“What about a favorite book?” she asked.

“I do, except it’s not really a book. A girl I went to the Academy with wrote it, and as far as I know, she never published it. Which is a shame because it was really good.” For the first time since they’d met, he sounded genuine.

“What was it about?” Byleth asked as she pulled on a thick nightgown. She’d need its warmth later.

“The heroine overcoming various obstacles. It was refreshing because she failed. Her life wasn’t all success, but it was still enjoyable. It felt genuine.”

She turned and saw that he still had his pants on.

“Do you like stories like that? Ones where it isn’t all happy?”

He nodded, staring at her as she ran her fingers through her hair. “I think they’re more relatable. Life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.” His tone was serious, but she saw the slight tilt of his head that indicated his next statement wouldn’t be. “Until I met you, that is.”

Byleth didn’t bother responding. Instead, she wormed her way into the bed roll and furs.

“What about you?” Sylvain asked. “What kind of books do you like?”

“Tactics primers. Books on magic and weapons. Some books on history and art.”

He stared. “That’s weirdly boring. No novels? No stories of valiant knights saving the love of their life?” He slid under the covers next to her, his pants still on. This close, she felt the heat radiating off his body.

“I like to learn. And up until yesterday, my life consisted either of teaching those things to others in the classroom or using them to survive.”

“Even the art?”

“Especially the art,” she replied seriously.

“Do you already miss that life?” He asked it quietly. So quietly, that for a moment Byleth thought she had imagined him speaking.

“It’s only been a couple of days,” she answered, her voice just as quiet.

“I don’t know if it’s worth anything, but…” he trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

“But?”

“It’s nothing. Never mind.” He rolled over, showing Byleth his back.

“Goodnight.”

He sighed and then came a weary, “Goodnight.”

She rolled over too and listened to the sound of Sylvain’s breathing. She waited until it evened out into a steady pace that indicated he was asleep. She waited half an hour more, counting the time with his number of breaths.

And then she snuck out of the tent.

*

Sylvain was awake and waiting for her when she returned. The moonlight illuminated the whites of his eyes as she pulled the flap back to slip in. She’d done her best to wash off the smell of blood, but the smell lingered in her nose and she wondered if he could smell it too.

He watched her wordlessly as she placed her boots down on the corner of the furs and got back under the covers. He was leaning against the pole supporting the tent, so she remained seated too. Only when she had stopped moving did he speak.

“What. The. Fuck.” It wasn’t a question. “You’ve been gone for hours.” Two hours and fifty-four minutes if she had kept time properly.

“There were bandits nearby. I took care of them,” she said.

The tent was too dark for her to make out his expression and any small movements, but she got the distinct impression that he had just clenched his hands into fists.

“All by yourself? In the middle of the night?”

“Yes.”

“Why? How?”

“A group of bandits always takes up position in a nearby cave this time of year. They harass travelers for money and steal from the locals. The Knights of Seiros have made several attempts to clear them all out, but they somehow always come back.

“I made sure they wouldn’t bother anyone this year.”

“What did you do?” Sylvain hissed. This wasn’t a side of Sylvain she had seen before. He was pissed and wasn’t even trying to compliment or tease her.

“I killed the leaders and sabotaged the weapons so the others couldn’t attack. They were mostly kids. I’ll send a letter to my father with my recommendation to seal the cave, so it never happens again.”

Byleth heard him inhale and then exhale shakily.

“What the fuck,” Sylvain murmured and this time it wasn’t directed at her. “Byleth, people don’t just take out bandits by themselves in a matter of hours. It’s a miracle you survived. How could you do something so stupid?”

She reached out and managed to grab one of his hands on her second try. His hand was tense, but he let her hold it.

“I asked around and was told that it is traditional in the Kingdom for newlyweds to give each other gifts that symbolized what they will bring to the relationship. This is my gift to you.” This was her hint to him.

The tent fell silent as he processed her words.

“So, you got me dead bandits as a wedding present,” he finally said.

“No, that would be weird. I wanted to show you what I’m good at. My gift was clearing out bandits so they wouldn’t bother all of us on the road and cause more trouble for the people of the Kingdom.”

Sylvain pulled his hand away and it sounded like he ran it through his hair. “You know,” he began, “most people commission swords or embroider something or even jewelry. Normal stuff.”

“I’ve been told I’m not very normal,” she said, and he laughed.

“Yeah, I’m beginning to realize that. Are you injured?”

“Nothing I couldn’t heal on my own.”

“That’s good. Byleth, you are... Is it rude to say you're a mysterious person? Because you are mysterious. I don’t understand you."

“We barely know each other,” she supplied unhelpfully.

“I don’t think it’s going to change with a few conversations.” He sighed again and he sounded tired. “We should try to get some sleep. My mother’s going to throw a fit if my dark circles get any worse.”

“Okay.”

Byleth settled under the covers, pulling them to her chin. She hadn’t had time to grab a jacket before she had snuck out and still felt chilled from galivanting in the middle of the night in sleepwear.

“Byleth?” Sylvain said. From the direction his voice came from, he sounded like he was facing her.

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I hold you? I’ll fall asleep much faster with a beauty like you in my arms.”

She suspected that he was asking because he was afraid she was going to sneak off again. But she had always been a cuddler, something she rarely had a chance to indulge in, so she agreed.

Sylvain pulled her close until their fronts were pressed together with her head tucked under his chin. His grip around her was loose and surprisingly comforting. The tension Byleth had been unknowingly holding leaked out of her. This time, she was the one to fall asleep first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me writing this chapter: please can we discuss our feelings and/or our situation  
> Sylvain and Byleth: absolutely not  
> me: …blease


	4. Unsteady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter hurt me to write which is probably why I struggled so much to get it out
> 
> also a huge thanks to everyone for leaving comments and kudos! y'all are the best

Loneliness was a feeling Byleth had acutely been aware of from a young age, but she'd never felt the emotion as strongly as it did now. It tore through her, ravaging every vein in her body, until her slowly beating heart was pumping only it. Even Sothis' disappearance, merging, whatever it was, hadn't hit the way sitting among Sylvain's closest friends did.

They'd been trying to include her, Mercedes and Annette especially, but at a certain point in the castle's sitting room the tea had gotten cold and the topic had turned to reminiscing about their days at Garreg Mach. In turn, Byleth thought about her time there and everyone she had left behind. But besides Jeralt and maybe a few others, they hadn't been family.

The former Blue Lions, however, were family in ways the other mercenaries and professors had never made her feel. None of them had protested her marriage and that still stung.

Perhaps it was her own fault. She should've tried harder to be more expressive, to laugh louder or something like that. Maybe then she could've met up with them like this down the road. Maybe they would take her back after this was all over.

But Byleth had a job to do and it had begun in earnest once she had arrived in Fhirdiad. Seeing Sylvain almost yelling at Dedue when the man had told them that the king had arranged for them to stay in the castle had been entertaining to say the least. The brief tour of the city enlightening and surprising. Byleth had never imagined how loud it would all be.

Still, she needed to focus. Seteth had suggested the library as a starting point while Shamir had suggested asking the staff. One was far less suspicious than the other, so she'd begin there.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'm going to go lie down. My head hurts from all the noise of the city," she said. Then she remembered that King Dimitri was in the room and added, "If you'll excuse me, Your Majesty."

The man stood and gave her a strained smile. "Please, I insist you call me Dimitri. Would you like an escort to your room?"

"Or I can get you something for your head?" Mercedes offered. Genuine concern was clear on her face.

"I'll be fine, thanks." She attempted a smile and nodded to Sylvain on her way out. His typical fake smile was plastered to his face, but his eyes were cold as he watched her go.

Byleth was tempted to try and listen on the other side of the door to what they’d say in her absence. It was risky and stupid to attempt it, so she didn’t. Instead, she made her way through the castle, taking the way she’d been shown on the brief tour.

To keep up appearances, she had to go to her room first before heading to the library. It’d also give her a chance to get a notebook and pen to take notes. And more importantly, it gave her a chance to see if her belongings had been searched.

Even without looking, she was certain they had been. It’d be stupid of palace security for them not to have. Dedue didn’t seem to be the type to give that order, which meant someone else ran the more subtle aspects of security. If it was one of the king’s friends, she’d wager it was Ashe. Based on his introduction, he was a knight, but she remembered Manuela or Hanneman telling her that one of Sylvain’s classmates had been an excellent lockpick. That didn’t mean Ashe was the spymaster, but it meant he probably had a connection to this vein of security.

Byleth picked through her belongings carefully. Whoever had searched her things had been very careful about it. If it wasn’t for her instincts and Shamir’s advice, she wouldn’t suspect anything had been touched. Even the case holding the Sword of the Creator seemed untouched.

Her fingers traced the engraved wood that held it. The wood had been enchanted to only open to her blood, her Crest and she was tempted to get the weapon out. Holding it always gave her a sense of correctness, even knowing what, who, it was made from.

The searcher must have seen the case and would report it. Byleth wondered how long it would take for someone to bring up special weapons in her presence.

She let herself stand there for a moment longer before snooping around the room herself. The rooms she and Sylvain had been given were nice, but not nearly as opulent as she would’ve guessed a noble of Sylvain’s rank would’ve been assigned. Maybe the Kingdom saved the nicer ones for visiting dignitaries? Or maybe Dimitri simply knew his friend was more comfortable not being constantly reminded of his status.

The bed looked inviting, but she wasn’t tired. If someone had been assigned to track her movements, she needed to stay in the room longer before moving on.

In the bathroom she found the largest tub she’d ever seen. It was one of the claw footed ones and was deep enough that the water would easily be at her shoulders. A good bath was something she hadn’t indulged in in what felt like years. There were soaps and other bath supplies on the vanity. On the second try, she found the bath oils and added them to the filling water.

While the water was heated, Byleth preferred her water as close to scalding as possible, so she warmed it with magic. It took Hanneman a few experiments to figure out that her Crest made her more resilient but as a side effect, number to things like pain and temperature. And emotions, but Hanneman had been far more interested in the former side effects than the latter.

Her pale skin quickly turned pink as she slid into the heated water. It felt good. So good that her muscles relaxed, her eyes closed, and she unintentionally fell asleep.

A knock startled her awake. She flinched and water sloshed out onto the floor.

“Byleth?” It was Sylvain.

“You can come in.”

His eyebrows rose when he entered and saw she was in the tub. “You missed dinner. And you didn’t even invite me to join you.”

“What time is it?”

“Just past nine o’clock,” he said while his eyes traced her body.

That meant she’d been asleep for close to five hours. Shit.

“Are you okay?” he asked when she didn’t respond.

Byleth wanted to say yes, but ever since she had merged with Sothis, she sometimes slept for far longer than she should. The first time it happened, she had lost months. At least this time had only been hours.

“Yes. I just fell asleep. This happens sometimes,” she finally said.

Sylvain walked over to the tub and perched on the edge before rolling his eyes. “Everyone sleeps a lot if they’re tired.” He trailed his fingers through the now cold water. “Though most people would’ve chosen a bed so they wouldn’t drown.”

She shook her head. “No, I mean sometimes I fall asleep and won’t wake up from days to months later.” It was a lame explanation, but she wasn’t sure how else to phrase it.

“Does this happen often?”

“Not as often as it used to.” Her eyes followed the movement of his hand tracing patterns atop the water.

“Well, your presence was missed at dinner. Especially by me. What’s the point of a beautiful wife if you don’t get to show her off to your friends?”

“I’ll apologize to them tomorrow.”

Byleth gripped the edges and stood. Her legs were wobbly from resting against the porcelain for hours. She stood there, letting the water drip from her body and all too aware of Sylvain’s gaze.

“And how will you apologize to me?” he asked. His tone was teasing, and his eyes were locked on Byleth’s.

She leaned over until their lips were almost touching and whispered, “Sorry, Sylvain.” Then she pulled back and stepped out of the tub.

He chuckled and then it turned into a full-blown laugh. “Most people find me irresistible. Am I not charming enough for you, my rose? Not what you expected a real man to be like? Disappointed you only scored the third most eligible bachelor in the Kingdom?”

“You’re attractive.” And he was. She had eyes, for one, and all the muscles he had were from hard training despite his laidback persona.

“But you don’t want to fuck me.” His teasing tone was gone and the deadly serious one he had used after she had snuck out was back.

Byleth paused in her drying off. “No. I don’t want to get pregnant now or have sex with someone who hates me.” She didn’t turn to look at him. She didn’t want to see his reaction.

“I see.” He left the bathroom and in the quiet, she heard him exit their room too.

In the mirror, Byleth’s reflection stared back at her and for a moment she swore she saw Sothis. She could almost hear the goddess berating her. When she blinked, the image was gone.

*

At breakfast, Byleth apologized for her absence at dinner last night and tried to not look at Sylvain when he arrived late. He hadn’t returned to their rooms last night and she wondered where he’d spent the night. Or more likely, who he spent it with.

After breakfast, she got Annette and Ashe to take her to the library where she spent the rest of the day reading. With people filtering in and out and at least one of Sylvain’s friends with her at all times, she couldn’t search for the books she really wanted to find. But she was able to find a few that wouldn’t be too suspicious.

While browsing for her less suspicious books, she noted a few she’d try and read later when no one was around her. In the meantime, she settled down on a couch with a book on the history of Sreng, aptly titled _The History of Sreng_. The copy was well-used with notes scribbled in the margins by one of its previous readers. That was weird for a library book, so Byleth flipped through the pages, looking for a signature of some kind. It was on the last page of the book and read, _if lost, return to Sylvain._

It made sense that Sylvain read this book, but why was his personal copy of the book in the castle’s library? Curious that the notes he left could hold the answer, she flipped through the book once more, this time looking at the annotations he made. Most of them were musings on what actually happened versus what the book reported. A few were reminders like _dinner with Olivier tonight_ or _new makeup in stock in two days_.

She got to the chapter on the importance of the Lance of Ruin in skirmishes in Sreng and along its border. Here, his notes turned harsh and critical. And then, next to a graphic of the lance, he’d drawn a Demonic Beast, the Gautier Crest Stone affixed to the beast’s forehead. The only note on this page was _M._

Realization crashed into Byleth like a sack of bricks. It was a drawing of Miklan, his older brother. The one he’d had to kill after he stole the Lance of Ruin and transformed into a demonic beast after using it. Rhea had told her about the incident after she came to the Monastery and Manuela had reminded her of the incident before she’d gotten married. Hanneman had considered the incident both fascinating and tragic.

Byleth didn’t know what Sylvain and Miklan’s relationship had been, but no matter what, killing a family member must have been hard. And considering the fact that neither his parents nor Sylvain had mentioned Miklan to her, it must still be a touchy subject.

Unsettled, Byleth shut the book and with the help of Annette and Mercedes, convinced Ashe to read to them. He’d been reading a novel about a valiant knight who had to save her true love from an arranged marriage. The irony of the topic was not lost on her, but it let her mind slip away from that image of Miklan as a Demonic Beast.

*

Byleth sighed and cracked her neck as she walked back to her room. She’d barely seen Sylvain at all today. He’d made his appearance at dinner and then disappeared before she could pull him aside. If his friends had noticed the tension between them, they all were too polite to comment.

Hushed voices ahead of her caught her ear and she came to a stop just before the hallway curved. She was wearing heeled boots, but years of walking around the Monastery at night in them had gotten her into the habit of stepping lightly while wearing them.

For a moment, she thought she’d been caught when the voices stopped. But then there was the sound of shuffling feet and a body hitting a hard surface. A wall maybe. Wet sounds of two people kissing made her feel bad for listening in. But then they broke apart and she recognized both of the voices.

“You’ve never been able to resist me,” Sylvain said, his voice teasing but in a lighter tone than he used with her.

“Shut up,” Felix shot back.

There was the sound of more kissing. Byleth should have moved, should have walked away but her feet were rooted to the ground and an emotion she couldn’t place ran through her.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Felix said, sounding a little out of breath.

“My _wife_ has made it clear she wants nothing to do with me. Besides, this is your fault for not running away with me.” Sylvain’s voice dropped and she could picture him speaking to Felix with their foreheads pressed together. “I wanted to marry you.”

“Then you should’ve refused to marry her.”

“You know what would’ve happened if I had.”

Felix was saying something else, but Byleth was already moving away as quickly and silently as she could. She had already heard too much.

Byleth fell asleep in bed alone. Her dreams were filled with wars from long ago and ships wrecked by storms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	5. That's What You Get

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features dancer!Byleth and Felix's POV. Two things I love and cherish

Felix had been itching for a good fight for weeks. Months, if he was being truthful, but the opportunity hadn’t arisen until now.

The sun had yet to raise so the castle was silent. He and Dimitri made their way through the castle to one of the indoor sparring areas. They had planned to fight outside in one of the rings, but it had been steadily pouring freezing almost winter rain for hours. Although they both were used to the cold and rain, it’d certainly earn Dimitri an earful about maintaining his health, which meant Felix would have less time to fight with him.

For all his former issues controlling his strength, Dimitri had always been the best sparring partner. Ingrid was too knightly, Sylvain too flirty. Mercedes and Annette focused too much on magical combat to put up much of a fight with weapons. Dedue never gave it his all, and Ashe didn’t have enough of an edge. But with Dimitri, Felix could let loose, really fight and he’d put up a good challenge.

And Felix needed a good fight. The Sylvain situation was frustrating to say the least and the knowing looks Dimitri had been giving him all morning were only making him feel worse. If he had less control of himself, he would’ve snapped weeks ago.

They were almost to the sparring area when Felix stopped them. He raised a finger to his lips and strained to listen. There, amongst the heavy patter of rain, was the sound of a blade swinging through the air.

They backtracked and found the source of the sound. It was Byleth practicing in the rain. If her clothes hadn’t been form fitting before, they were now, plastered to her well-muscled body as she moved through the rain. Felix was so surprised to see her out that it took him embarrassingly long to realize that she wasn’t just moving through different positions but dancing. And it was one he recognized.

Felix had, despite his pleas, been chosen to represent the Blue Lions at the White Heron Cup by Manuela while at the Officers Academy. To everyone’s surprise, except Manuela’s, he’d one and received extra training because of it. Byleth was dancing one of the ones he’d learned but never fully performed, the dragon dance. It was a paired dance, one where the two dancers’ movements were supposed to complement and enhance their partner’s.

He’d always felt foolish doing it by himself, but Byleth looked ethereal. She’d slowed the tempo and her sword movements looked too drawn out, almost as if she was used to fighting with a whip, but the combination made it seem less obvious that it was a partnered dance.

Her movements also told Felix that she was competent, experienced fighter. He’d been doubtful when Sylvain had told him that she’d taken out a group of bandits on her own. Now, he had no doubts that the former mercenary was easily a one-person army.

A quick glance out of the corner of his eye showed him that Dimitri was similarly intrigued. The slight downward tug at the corner of his mouth also told Felix that there was something about her movements that bothered him, but he wasn’t sure what it was.

The dance continued for a few minutes more and when Byleth was done, Dimitri clapped. The sound seemed to startle her. She whipped her head in their direction, but it was too far to tell if her face was in its usual blank mask. Dimitri waved her over and she jogged over, her boots squelching in the muddy grass.

“That was quite impressive,” Dimitri said. “Sylvain never mentioned you’ve been trained as a dancer.”

“It’s never come up in conversation.” Her eyes darted to Felix’s and then back to Dimitri. “After training so many students for the Cup, I thought I’d give it a try and found I was pretty good at it.”

Felix suspected Byleth found herself pretty good at anything combat related, but he didn’t voice that. Instead, he asked, “Do you typically fight with a whip?”

Byleth’s gaze on him was sharp this time. When she spoke, every word was measured. “Not exactly. My Hero’s Relic can sometimes function like one. I can show you, if you’d like?”

“Yes, please,” Dimitri said.

She nodded and jogged over to a tree near the clearing she’d been practicing in. He hadn’t noticed before the weapon case resting beneath it. When she got back, she knelt at the edge of the awning, half of her body in the rain, and opened the case with a drop of blood from her thumb. Dimitri and Felix were huddled around her and when the case opened, Dimitri gasped.

Both of them enjoyed weapons, collecting them, using them, even learning about them, and in front of them was a sword thought lost to history until recently: The Sword of the Creator.

Byleth reached in and the sword hummed with energy as soon as her hand touched it, even with the Crest Stone missing.

“How is that possible?” Dimitri asked, voicing Felix’s unspoken question.

Byleth shrugged. “Do you want to touch it, or do you want to see what I meant earlier?”

Dimitri pulled back his outreached hand, looking taken aback. “Sorry, I was forgetting myself. Please, show us.”

Again, Byleth nodded and jogged back into the downpour. She paused in the middle of the small clearing and steadied her stance with a slight shifting of her feet. Felix wasn’t sure if she actually took a steadying breath or the rain distorted her figure enough to make it look like she did. Either way, in one moment she was the image of stillness and in the next she was alive with precise movements.

This time, Felix recognized the dragon dance with the first stroke of her blade. She moved at the normal speed of the dance, one that he knew would only get faster and faster until the end. Her blade carved through the rain in liquidlike movements.

Then came the upsweep of her sword and it extended. Sections of it trailed apart in what almost resembled a whip. Byleth controlled its movements so precisely, it looked like she was dancing with a ribbon.

“Goddess blessed,” Dimitri murmured, the words spoken as if he hadn’t intended them to be spoken aloud.

Felix wasn’t that pious but even he had to agree. He’d heard, like all of Fodlan had, that Byleth was Rhea’s long-lost niece, but more importantly, the first one in a millennium to be able to wield the Sword of the Creator. Stuff like that didn’t happen by chance. At the same time, the Goddess also had to be a fickle bitch putting her chosen into the situation she was in now. Not that he was making things any easier.

Her dance ended, the music playing in the back of Felix’s mind, with her sword collapsing back in on itself. When she came back over, not even out of breath, he studied the blade and noticed the seams where it must separate.

“That was wonderful,” Dimitri said. “Thank you for showing us.”

“Spar with me,” Felix said. “You seem like a worthy adversary.” It’d get him a chance to see if she was as skilled as all the rumors made her out to be.

“I thought we were going to spar,” Dimitri said, sounding far too much like a petulant child for Felix’s taste.

“Sure, why not?” Byleth said. “As long as I’m not interrupting?” She looked between the two men.

“We can take turns sparring,” Felix said and walked towards the sparring room, expecting them to follow. He overheard Dimitri agreeing that it was okay and asking if she wanted to change clothes. He didn’t hear her response but judging by her walking in with her still soaked clothes, it wasn’t an issue.

Felix stalked over to the middle of the ring. The edges were outlined in chalk that needed to be redone. His feet scuffed at the dirt, betraying his slight impatience as Byleth stowed the Sword of the Creator.

When she joined him in the middle of the ring, her face was as blank as ever. He wondered went on behind her neutral expression. Then Dimitri called for the match to start and Felix’s mind went blank as he slipped into the calm storm that always came over him in a good fight.

Their blades clashed. The sharp sound made his ears ring and his hands tingled from the reverberation of the impact. He adjusted his grip and slashed towards her. Byleth moved at the last moment, his blade almost nicking her. After the first few exchanges it was clear he had the advantage of speed and strength. Byleth was still stronger than most, thanks to her hard-earned muscles and her Crest. Felix didn’t care for studying Crests like others, but he knew enough that if her strength wasn’t that noticeable now, she either had surprising control or her Crest’s abilities lay elsewhere.

On every other physical level, they seemed to be on equal footing. He wasn’t that much taller than her to make much of a difference when it came to reach. While Byleth was certainly more filled out than he was, the difference in weight was negligible.

Which meant it came down to skill. And Byleth seemed to have it in spades.

Felix was growing frustrated. He never let his blows get erratic, he had too much self-control for that, but he moved faster and faster. And she dodged and parried every single time. She seemed to know where he was going before he did, and although her expression never moved, her eyes darted and took in everything.

He was so focused in utilizing the opening in her stance that his last swing had created, that he missed Byleth’s foot coming up to plant on his chest. He tried to dart back, but he was too slow. Her kick caught him squarely in the chest. He stumbled back and out of the ring.

“Byleth wins,” Dimitri said.

“Again,” Felix said.

Byleth nodded, still not out of breath, and they started a new match.

*

After six rounds, Felix hadn’t even won one.

Dimitri had made him stop after the third and let him spar Byleth instead. He’d reluctantly agreed to it. It gave him a chance to catch his breath and to analyze her movements.

One thing was clear: she fought like an experienced mercenary. Felix had seen his fair share of battle for his age, but it must be nothing compared to how many battles she’d fought in. The divide in their experience was jarring. His clear losses stirred up memories he’d ignored for years.

Another thing clear was that Byleth liked to win, even wanted to. Her face may have been blank but every muscle in her body was taught with excitement before a match would begin.

Dimitri had only gotten two rounds in, both losses despite his Crest given strength putting Byleth on the defensive, before Felix cut in.

Their sixth match ended once more seconds after he thought he’d won. This time, he’d managed to disarm Byleth, but she’d just stepped into his space and placed a well-aimed punch to his arm. He’d dropped his sword and she’d used the distraction to sweep his legs out from under him. Felix had scrambled to get up, but she landed on top of him, her knees pinning one arm to his side. She’d procured a knife from somewhere and pressed it against his throat. 

He heard Dimitri call out her win, but he didn’t release his grip on her ankle. Their eyes were locked, neither of them willing to move. The pressure had a flush creeping up his neck and he hoped she wouldn't notice it.

“And here I was worried my wife would be bored without me,” Sylvain said, startling Felix’s eyes away from Byleth’s gaze. “I should’ve known my dear friends would keep her entertained without me.”

Felix scowled, the implication of the words stinging, and he shoved Byleth off him. His body burned where she’d touched him, and he was suddenly all too aware that he’d been the reason Sylvain hadn’t been with her the past few nights.

Sylvain ignored him and Dimitri as he greeted Byleth first. Not wanting to overhear what the two of them had to say to each other, he stalked over to the weapon’s rack.

Dimitri trailed behind him, and Felix couldn’t help but catch Sylvain fussing over the state of Byleth’s clothes. She’d dried off as they sparred. She’d even taken a break to wring out her long hair and put it back into a bun in between an earlier match. But she was still damp, and Felix recognized the too familiar sound of Sylvain taking his shirt off.

He became all too aware of Dimitri side eyeing him and snapped, “What?”

“Nothing. You seem agitated.”

“We’re being trounced.”

“I know. She’s a far better fighter than I’d heard.”

“That doesn’t bother you, boar?”

Dimitri flinched at the use of the old insult but recovered quickly enough. “Not in the same way it’s bothering you.”

Not wanting to continue the conversation, Felix turned around and hesitated. Sylvain and Byleth stood there, Byleth now dressed in Sylvain’s shirt and Sylvain shirtless, with Byleth holding his face between her hands. Her eyes met Felix’s and she dropped her hands, her brows pinched together ever so slightly. It was the most expressive he’d seen her be all morning and the implications made his jaw clench.

“You here to spar or flirt?” Felix asked while throwing a lance at Sylvain.

He caught it easily and smiled wide. “Can’t I be here for both?”

“No,” Dimitri said. “You used to always skip out on training unless someone was there you were trying to pick up.”

Sylvain glanced at Felix and then back at Dimitri. “I’m here to spar.” He posed with the lance outstretched in one hand and his other hand behind his back. It’s a horrible pose technically, but it’s flashy and works even better since his shirt is off. “Who’s first?”

“I am,” Byleth said.

“Sylvain, maybe you can be the first to get a win against her,” Dimitri said. “Felix and I aren’t showing a good example of what Kingdom military prowess is like.”

Byleth shook her head. “You two are incredible fighters.”

“But not good enough to beat you,” Felix said.

“I’m sure if these had been in real combat, they would’ve ended differently,” she said.

“Regardless, Sylvain, you’re up.” Dimitri patted him on the shoulder and stepped out of the ring.

Felix followed and watched as the couple circled each other. Sylvain had set his shoulders back, a tell that he was somewhat serious. On the other hand, Byleth’s stance seemed too loose, not rooted enough. Was she not going to take him seriously?

“What do I get if I win?” Sylvain asked.

Felix couldn’t stop the snort that came out.

“A kiss,” Byleth said.

“And if you win?”

“You let me take you on a date.”

Sylvain didn’t stumble but he did hesitate, and it was all the opening Byleth needed. Sylvain managed to bring his lance in and down in time to block. But it was enough for Byleth to get in close enough for him to lose the advantage of reach. She’d used the same tactic on Dimitri twice. It was effective and a tactic clearly learned on the battlefield, not in practice.

For all his focus on flair, Sylvain was still an excellent fighter and he recovered enough to land a hit on Byleth’s knee. She remained standing but let loose a sharp exhalation of air. Her next lunge in was slowed and Sylvain was able to back out of her attack range.

The longer they exchanged blows, the clearer it was to Felix that Byleth was finally getting tired. Or maybe not tired exactly. Her attacks still had the same precision, the same desire to win that they had at the beginning, but her movements were slowed compared to her earlier fervor.

Sylvain, however, was fresh and despite the dark circles under his eyes that had plagued him since he was a kid, well rested. He was taking the match seriously, which was rare.

Byleth had slowed enough that when she attempted to dodge a strike aimed for her head, the blunted tip of the lance still broke the skin of her cheek as it skimmed off her face. Sylvain’s eyes widened and Byleth struck, sending the lance clattering to the ground. She held her sword to Sylvain’s neck until he held up his hands in mock surrender.

“Are you okay?” Sylvain asked once Byleth lowered the weapon.

“I’m fine.”

Dimitri offered her a handkerchief which she took and used to wipe the blood away. Instead of holding it to the cut he expected to see, her skin only had a thin pink scar.

Felix wasn’t sure what possessed him to reach up and rub trace the healed skin, but he did. As soon as he realized what he was doing, he yanked his hand back. He hadn’t seen her use magic.

“Your Crest?” he asked simply, ignoring Sylvain’s burning gaze.

“Yes. I heal quickly and don’t tire as easily,” she said. That explained why she hadn’t seemed tired until now. She wasn’t looking at anyone in particular when she added, “I also don’t feel things as strongly as others do like pain or temperature. Hanneman was fascinated.”

“I’m glad I didn’t permanently mar your beauty,” Sylvain said, which was as good as a regular apology from him.

“You’d have to try a lot harder than that,” Byleth said, something like a weak smile on her face. “I’m going to sit out the next couple of rounds.”

“Very well, Sylvain, you’ll be fighting me next,” Dimitri said.

Sylvain sputtered and complained, but they squared off and began.

Felix stood off to the side next to Byleth. He shifted, part uncomfortable standing next to her and still antsy. He still felt restless despite the six matches he’d fought. Seeing Dimitri and Sylvain go at it only made it worse.

“I’m sorry,” Byleth began, her voice barely audible over the clash of the weapons, “that I’ve come between you two. Had I known…” she trailed off.

If she said anything else, Felix couldn’t make it out over the pounding blood in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone is staying safe as best they can!


	6. Can You Hear Me Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and Sylvain go on a date to the opera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has been my favorite to write so far and I hope you like it as much as I do!

Sylvain drummed his fingers against his thigh. The action didn’t lessen his anxiety but it was better than just waiting there. Normally, he was the one who left his date wanting more. Tonight, however, Byleth was putting him in the hot seat by making him wait.

He’d been surprised when she told him that their date was going to the opera. Felix had been the one to tell him that the company visiting was the Mittlefrank Opera, the one Dorothea performed with. He hadn’t seen her in years and seeing her perform would’ve been a good excuse to meet up. But Sylvain had been preoccupied with other things to remember to buy tickets. He was surprised Byleth had. He wasn’t sure if she’d ever even been to the opera.

But Byleth having seen an opera performance or not was the least of concerns.

Byleth knew.

And she said she didn’t care. Obviously, that was a lie. Sylvain had never dated a woman, or a man for that matter, that wasn’t bothered by not being the only person in his life. She may have the expressions of an ice queen, but he was certain that she was upset.

He’d always wanted to be someone who understood that if his affections strayed, it didn’t mean he didn’t like them any less. His relationship with Felix has been the closest thing to achieving that. They’d never officially dated, but they’d been hot and cold for years. Felix sometimes got jealous, but the man got jealous over Sylvain petting a cat and not paying attention to him. They’d always talked about it before and afterwards too. And Felix also did his own fair bit of seeing others. If Sylvain’s memory was correct, he and Dorothea had even had a brief thing near the end of their academy days.

But he and Byleth had barely even talked about their relationship, whatever it was exactly.

He had confronted her after sparring two days ago, after Felix had told him what she had said to him. Byleth had told Sylvain that she didn’t care if he kept seeing Felix, but that couldn’t be the whole story. It couldn’t.

He had returned to their room last night to see how she’d react. Part of him had hoped for something dramatic, something explosive that would indicate her true feelings. But she’d just poured him a cup of tea. Later she had crawled in bed with him. They hadn’t fallen asleep cuddling, but they’d woken up curled together as they always had. Still she didn’t pull away in disgust or anything. Her blasé attitude was driving him crazy and he was determined to find out what she really thought.

Tonight, though, was their date and he was not about to cause a scene in public by arguing with her. He already had enough rumors to deal with.

“Sylvain?”

Byleth’s voice jolted him from his thoughts. He hadn’t heard her approach.

“Finally,” he started to say, but the word died in his throat at the sight of her appearance.

The dress she wore was nothing like the previous ones she’d worn. They had made her seem like a kid playing dress up or someone pretending to be something she’s not. But this fit her perfectly. Literally and metaphorically.

The all black dress was long sleeved and form fitting with a slight flare of the skirt at her hips. A long slit up one side of it exposed her knee-high boots and the creamy expanse of her well-muscled thigh. He had expected something that exposed her cleavage, but her chest was covered. Instead, there was a large diamond shaped cut out in the back that showed off some of her nastier scars when her long braid swayed.

The true eye catcher was the thick choker made of diamonds and emeralds. His hand came up to touch it and he recognized it as one of the pieces of jewelry she’d been given as part of her exuberant bride price.

As tradition dictated, most of the money had gone to her father and Rhea to show that Sylvain would be able to take care of her and to “repay” them for letting him take their family member away. Rhea had rejected his parents’ initial offer which had led to several other nobles submitting their own offers. Until his parents had come back with an offer few in all of Fódlan could or would be willing to beat.

A part of the ridiculous sum of money and other gifts had been given to Byleth. He had bothered to look over the contract before his parents had sent it and there had been numerous conditions on what she could do with the money. One stipulation had been that she spend a portion of it on clothes befitting her status as the future Margravine.

Clearly, this dress had been one commissioned with the money and it was money well spent. Whoever designed this deserved a bonus. He wanted to touch her, to feel the weight of her on top of him. If she was almost any else, he’d do just that, but she’d won this date and he intended to see what her plans were.

“You’re going to be the envy of everyone tonight,” he finally said, and he meant it. Everyone there would either want to be her or be with her. Probably a bit of both.

Byleth glanced away and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Mercedes and Annette insisted on helping me get ready. Ingrid even helped by picking out the boots.” She looked back at him and gave him a slight smile. “You cleaned up nicely too.”

He had but then again, he always did.

“I have a gift for you,” Sylvain said and handed her the box that he’d been waiting with.

He held it for her as she undid the bow and was close enough to see the widening of her eyes. She pulled the coat from the box, her fingers sinking into the white fur as she did.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said.

“I didn’t sew it together, but I hunted all the wolves that it’s made of. It should help you stay warm.” He had started hunting them to get their population under control. After the fourth one, he had realized they’d make a good gift.

With his help, she shrugged the coat on. It fit her perfectly. Just the right amount of too big to contrast the tightness of her dress, and thick enough to keep her warm.

“Thank you,” she repeated. This time it sounded genuine, rather than an automatic response. “Shall we?” Byleth offered out her hand. He took it and placed it on his arm.

As they entered the carriage, he could’ve sworn someone was watching them, but when he looked around, he didn’t see anyone.

*

Sylvain watched as Byleth took in the opera house with wide eyes. It certainly was lavish. It had burned down a little over a decade ago and when they had rebuilt it, the crown had spared no expense to make sure it rivaled the one in Enbarr. He’d only been to the original once and all the changes were certainly worth it.

The worker in the ticket office had been more than surprised to see the two of them walk up to claim two tickets in the Mezzanine. Apparently, Byleth hadn’t been recognized when she’d purchased them, so she’d bought tickets that the worker considered beneath their station. She had tried to insist that the seats would be fine, and Sylvain had even backed her up, but they’d both been shut down. Since Dimitri wasn’t attending and Sylvain was considered one of his closest friends, they’d been given the Royal box, despite their many protests.

Still, it was somewhat worth the headache since it gave him an excuse to show Byleth both the lower and upper levels. It also was a sharp reminder that she knew little to nothing about being a noble. Which was as refreshing as it was frustrating. He hoped they wouldn’t run into any nobles. He wasn’t interested in faking pleasantries with them tonight.

Of course, that had been too much to ask for.

“Sylvain? Is that you?”

He turned and saw the snake-like face of Lorenz. He’d grown his hair out, but other than that, he looked like he’d barely changed. “Lorenz, how long has it been? What brings you to Faerghus?”

“Sylvain, it is you!” His former classmate walked over to them. “It has been a while, but first you must introduce me to your lovely companion.”

Sylvain suspected Lorenz already knew who Byleth was. The man had always kept up with the latest gossip on the nobility even if he acted like he was above gossiping. “This is my new wife, Byleth. Byleth, meet Lorenz Hellman Gloucester. We attended the Academy together.”

Byleth held out her hand in what looked like an attempt to shake Lorenz’s hand. Instead, he bowed and kissed the back of her hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Lorenz straightened and flashed a smile. “I had heard you’d gotten married, Sylvain, but no one had said just how attractive your new wife is.”

“I think more people are interested in my Crest,” she said. It was honest, perhaps a little too honest than appropriate, but it was only Lorenz so he wasn’t worried anything would spread.

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you in Faerghus?” Sylvain asked.

“Ah, I have good news of my own. I’m engaged,” Lorenz said.

“Congratulations,” Byleth said.

“How’d you convince some poor woman to marry you?” Sylvain asked.

Lorenz sniffed and out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Byleth smile.

“You know, the same thing could’ve been said to you less than a month ago,” Lorenz said, pouting. “But if you must know, I’m engaged to Dorothea.”

Sylvain’s brain short circuited. “What? How? I thought you were dead set on marrying another noble?”

“I had been for a time, but Dorothea has given me something I thought I’d never find.” There was a hopefulness in his tone that made Sylvain’s stomach turn.

“We were actually hoping to see Dorothea after the show,” Byleth said. “Sylvain hasn’t seen her in years and I’ve never met her.”

“Of course, of course. I’ll take you two to meet her when it’s all done. I’m sure she’ll be delighted.” Lorenz glanced at something over Sylvain’s shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me, I see someone else I’d love to talk to before the show begins.” He bowed and kissed Byleth’s hand once more.

“He was…interesting,” Byleth finally said once the wave of Lorenz’s perfume left them. It was surprisingly tactful of her. “Were you two close?”

“We were well acquainted.”

Byleth raised an eyebrow ever so slightly and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Not that well acquainted.”

She hummed in response.

“What?”

“Nothing. He just seems like he’d be attentive in bed, is all.”

Sylvain stared at her in shock. She wouldn’t sleep with him, but she was considering how Lorenz was in bed? Lorenz? That couldn’t do.

He leaned down so his mouth was level with her ear and whispered, “I can always show you what a real man looks like.”

Byleth simply stared back, but if the slight dilation in her pupils was anything to go by, his words had gotten a rise out of her.

A bell chimed, signaling that they should find their seats. They sat just as the curtains pulled back, revealing the narrator. The woman launched into a summary of the events leading up to the scene they were about to see. The opera was an adaption of _Loog and the Maiden of the Wind_. He had heard the story so many times he could probably recite it by heart, but he had heard that the Mittlefrank Opera had made some interesting choices to the treasured Faerghus tale.

As such, he was not prepared for Dorothea to glide on stage as the titular Maiden of the Wind in a flowing, mint green wig. Most adaptations depicted her as a blonde like Loog himself. Apparently, they’d wanted to give the Maiden a more arcane like feel. The unsettling part was that the shade almost perfectly matched Byleth’s hair color.

A glance at her expression told Sylvain that was intrigued and paying attention to Dorothea’s singing, but not much more than that.

He returned his gaze to the stage and he watched the familiar tale unfold. Loog entered from stage right, battling a group of Demonic Beasts. The fight went back and forth until it looked like he was going to lose. Except Kyphon comes in at the last moment with the Maiden at his side. The Maiden summons her powers over the wind and blows the Demonic Beasts away.

Rather than cheesy looking, it was surprisingly well done. They must have a mage with fine control over their wind magic on the sides to help with the effects.

The wind died down when Loog launched into his love song to the Maiden, ending with a proposal. That too was familiar. What was unfamiliar was that during the song, Kyphon remained onstage. He sent longing looks towards Loog while the Maiden stared at him.

The Mittlefrank Opera had introduced a love triangle. Loog loves the Maiden. The Maiden loves Kyphon. Kyphon loves Loog.

All three actors should receive standing ovations for how well they display their love, especially for Kyphon and the Maiden. Sylvain’s own hand flexed in response when Kyphon went to grab Loog’s hand only to pull back at the last second.

Dorothea absolutely dominated the final scene before intermission. She was taking care of the injured Loog, but it was clear with how she avoided looking at Kyphon on watch that the love song was really for him. He easily saw her tears from their box as she faced the crowd when the curtain fell.

“So, what do you think?” he asked Byleth.

“It’s not what I was expecting, but so far I’m enjoying it,” she said. “Your friend is talented.”

“She’s gotten even better since I last saw her perform. Her fake tears were never that believable before.”

Byleth’s brows furrowed for a second, but the expression disappeared before he could place it. “Should we have brought flowers to give to her?”

“Shit. You’re right. I completely forgot.” Sylvain ran a hand through his hair, messing up his earlier attempt at taming it. “Do you mind waiting here while I go get some? There’s a vendor that used to hang out outside.”

She shook her head. “Go ahead.”

He turned to leave but hesitated in the doorway. They were probably being watched. Scrutinized for details to fill the rumor mill. He returned to Byleth and took her head between his hands. His lips met hers in a chaste kiss. When he pulled away, he saw confusion in her eyes and seeing it hurt more than it should have.

“I’ll be back,” he said and left.

The vendor was thankfully outside, and he was able to purchase an understated bouquet of roses. He was sure Dorothea was already swimming in grand bouquets and other extravagant gifts. Sylvain also purchased a single white lily. It reminded him of the flowers Rhea always wore and thought it might suit Byleth too.

He made it back to the box with time to spare. People were still milling about and none of the ushers were urging them back to their seats. The sound of voices halted him just outside the doorway. He peeked around the corner and saw Byleth speaking with Lord Lonato. Her hands were clasped tightly together in front of her. A physical gesture he had noticed she used when she felt uncomfortable.

Over the sound of the crowd, he couldn’t make out what she said to Lonato, but his words rang clear.

“Don’t try to deceive me. I know what you really are, whore of Rhea.”

The air in Sylvain’s lungs left as if it had been punched out of him. When he inhaled, his vision swam and he strode forward, clapping a hand on Lonato’s shoulder.

“Lord Lonato! Ashe didn’t say you’d be in town.” Sylvain smiled and even though it reached his eyes, he was sure there was too much steel in them.

“Sylvain, it’s good to see you,” he said. “I got in this evening. I was planning on letting Ashe know after the opera was finished.” His voice was equally fake, slipping into that fatherly tone Sylvain had heard him use with Ashe.

Sylvain let go of his shoulder after another firm squeeze and went over to Byleth. “I see you’ve met my lovely wife. It’s a shame you couldn’t make it to the wedding.” He blocked her from Lonato’s line of sight with his body and tucked the lily behind her ear before kissing the top of her head. A protective arm hooked her around the waist and tugged her to his side as he faced Lonato once more.

Byleth must look a lot like Rhea to him because rage swam across Lonato’s face before he managed to school his expressions.

“Yes, I was just expressing my congratulations to your wife.” A lie. “What a sight it must have been for the future Margrave Gautier to marry a mercenary turned professor. The two of you suit each other. The Goddess must have had a hand in bringing the two of you together.”

It was worded carefully enough that it wasn’t an outright insult, but he knew how to read between the lines. Rhea’s whore and the Kingdom’s philanderer. A match made by the Goddess indeed.

“Just think, had things gone a little differently, it could have been your wedding.” Sylvain remembered the sharp surprise that had hit him when he had heard that Lonato had submitted his own offer for Byleth’s hand. His father had scoffed reading the amount. It had been so low it had been insulting. But there was no denying the fact that marrying Byleth would have given Lonato’s house something it has never had: a Crest.

The dig hit a nerve and the anger that Lonato had successfully hidden before resurfaced. “Maybe so,” he began, “but then everybody wouldn’t have gotten to see you play the fool at the reception. What a shining example of Faerghus’ future.”

“Get out,” Byleth said, her tone sharp, and placed herself between Lonato and Sylvain. Neither man moved. “Get. Out,” she repeated, stepping forward until she was practically toe to toe with him.

“Careful,” Lonato said. “Let your mask slip much further and there will be nothing left to hide you or the filthy Central Church from the judgement of the Goddess.” Even as he made the threat, he had already started retreating.

Byleth stared him down until he was gone from view.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Her back was still to Sylvain and all those scars were on display once more.

“Are you? He shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.” He hesitated and then added, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Byleth sat down and flexed her hands against her thighs, her fingers dragging across the rich black fabric. “Do people normally talk to you like that?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted, sitting down too. The flowers he’d gotten for Dorothea were practically forgotten in his hand.

“You shouldn’t let them.”

Sylvain snorted. She’d done nothing when Lonato called her a whore. It didn’t make her point convincing. Besides, the more people that thought he was an idiot, the less expectations there were to deal with.

Byleth’s next words were drowned out by the bell chiming, signaling intermission was over. She didn’t repeat herself. Instead, she grabbed Sylvain’s free hand with her own and rested their hands on her thigh. She stared down at the stage, unblinking as the curtains drew back.

*

When Dorothea’s final note cut off as the Maiden returned to the wind, the entire crowd clambered to their feet to give a standing ovation. Sylvain’s heart wasn’t in it and he was still off when Lorenz snuck him and Byleth into her dressing room.

He had been excited to speak with Dorothea. They hadn’t seen each other in years after all, but between her wig and Byleth’s hair, the insult Rhea’s whore kept repeating in his head. Everyone must have noticed because Dorothea quickly claimed she was exhausted. Lorenz tactfully escorted them out before Sylvain had a chance to question her sanity in agreeing to marry Lorenz.

The carriage ride back to the palace was silent, as was the walk back to their room. Byleth hesitated outside the door and for a moment Sylvain thought she was going to push him against it and kiss him. It was what Felix would do. 

The moment passed. She pushed past him and went inside.

The amount of gold and goods paid as her bride price flashed through his mind. Rhea’s whore. Even the Archbishop had a price for how much she would sell her only relative for.

And Sylvain’s parents would have paid even more for him to marry her.

Lonato was right. They were perfect for each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! All the support makes this so much more enjoyable to write


	7. Kiss Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth does some introspection. Felix and Byleth have tea and sparring follows. Sylvain appears in a flashback. Nothing goes to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tag updates: Felix/Byleth, Sylvain/Felix/Byleth, angst with a happy ending
> 
> Fic summary was also updated to better reflect the fic's direction

Byleth stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her hands gripped the edge of the sink so tightly her knuckles turned white, but her focus remained on the rest of her naked body.

Scars carved across her flesh in a pattern only she knew the dance to. A stab wound there, an arrow here, and others faded into practically nothing because of the magic that had knitted her flesh together. A particularly nasty one across her right thigh to her groin was from when Kronya had tried to bleed her dry. Byleth had had to plunge her fingers in and cauterize the artery with a spell before she bled out.

Even with the myriad of scars, she knew she was attractive. Byleth had never cared much about her physical looks even if she was particular about her clothes. Her looks had never been useful or needed until recent years. Bandits and pirates didn’t care if you looked fuckable. All they cared about was trying to survive. Survival was what she had cared about for most of her life.

Prior to becoming a professor, only her various trysts had caused her to question her attractiveness. The answer had always been yes. Moving to the Monastery had changed all that. She had learned all about what it meant to be desired and in more ways than one. Her students admired her for her skills, but she knew there were some that also admired her for her looks.

Yet the answer of whether or not she was attractive had never bothered her as much as it did now. She wondered how Sylvain would react if she walked out without any clothes on. Would he be turned on? Turned off? Somewhere in between?

A part of her hated herself for wondering. His opinion hardly mattered. But it was one thing to be touched by another person. It was another to be touched by someone who wanted you.

Her thoughts drifted to Felix and something like guilt and something else swam in her gut. Byleth’s cheek had burned for hours after he had touched it the other day. He had fought confidently with a desire to win that was rare for someone trained with knights. She’d seen the shock in his eyes when she told him she knew about him and Sylvain. And she had noticed the desire in his eyes when she pinned him again and again.

Still, that didn’t change the fact that he had looked at her like he wanted her earlier tonight, when she’d been on her way to meet Sylvain for their date.

Sylvain had looked at her the same way he had when he’d seen her in the dress. But when he had kissed her at the opera, it had been dispassionate. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. She had told him point blank that she wasn’t interested in having sex with him just a week ago. That had been before whatever this past week had been. Before she wondered if he didn’t hate her, but their situation.

Lonato had certainly reminded her of that. Rhea’s whore. Byleth smiled. Rhea would have strangled the Kingdom noble had she heard him say that. She was happy Sylvain hadn’t heard it. His reaction to the insult would’ve hurt more than the words. She’d been called much worse and for far less. Lonato hadn’t even been correct.

Sure, Rhea had brought her the proposal, but she’d urged her to run away, to disappear. Even told her that she didn’t have to accept. But Byleth had had a debt to repay. Rhea had saved her father’s life. The Central Church had offered her a temporary home and answers about her past. If a lifetime up north in a life she didn’t want was a the price to pay for a chance to end the threat that was the Western Church and get the final answer she needed, she’d pay it. There were few things she wouldn’t do to ensure her father’s safety. She had lost Sothis, she wasn’t going to lose him too.

Byleth was the one who had told Rhea to accept the Gautier’s second offer. Byleth was the one who had tied her own noose. And only Rhea and Jeralt had protested the decision.

She hadn’t expected wanting to like Sylvain or wanting him to want her. Tolerance, maybe even lust, but not whatever emotion stirred within her now. If Sothis was still with her, she’d certainly be berating Byleth like she was a young child. _You’ll never find out unless you do something about it_ , memory Sothis chastised her.

With a sigh, Byleth released the sink and pulled on her pajamas. There was no use dwelling on it. She left the bathroom with the intention to grab a book Ashe had recommended and planned to read a few chapters before going to bed.

She hesitated when her fingers touched the soft vellum of the book cover. Sylvain sat with his head in his hands on the couch. His shirt was half unbuttoned, revealing the dusting of red hair covering his chest. He must have been running his hands through his hair because it was back in its usual mussed style. Her fingers itched to do the same.

Byleth managed to take two steps towards the bed before she turned around and came to rest in front of Sylvain. With her free hand, she tilted his face upwards and then she kissed him.

The kiss was tentative and brief. When she pulled away, his eyes were swimming with too many emotions for her to place.

“I had fun tonight,” she said. “Thank you for going with me.”

Byleth moved to walk away but his hand snagged hers, halting her.

Sylvain opened his mouth only to shut it a second later. He hesitated so long she thought that the next words out of his mouth were going to be another one of his insincere compliments. Instead, he said, “I had a good time too.”

He released her hand and Byleth was free to walk to bed alone. She shoved the feeling of disappointment down and tried to focus on the words on the page. She wasn’t successful.

*

Felix didn’t typically pray to the Goddess, but he did now, begging her to get him out of this lecture. His old man had arrived this morning to speak with Dimitri and to attend the surprise ball Dimitri was holding to celebrate Sylvain and Byleth’s marriage before they left for Gautier territory.

The marriage of one of his friends had apparently reminded the old man that Felix was also supposed to “carry on the Fraldarius line.” If he had a sword for every time his father had used that exact phrase since the lecture started, he could’ve filled a whole armory by now.

Of course, Felix’s situation was different than Sylvain’s so it wasn’t like his father could just marry him off to some noblewoman. And he knew his father well enough to know that he had probably never even seriously entertained the idea. His old man’s concerns about duty and what not typically were more about his behavior more than anything else. This was the first time he’d ever brought up the issue of Felix providing heirs.

Still, for all the old man’s parading about the issue, Felix knew nothing was going to come out of it. He’d never be forced to marry someone. And even if he never had kids, it wouldn’t be the end of the Fraldarius line, not that Felix cared if it would be or not. He had several cousins thanks to his uncle and although none of them had inherited the Fraldarius Crest, one of their kids or grandkids probably would.

So, Felix had tuned out his father ages ago, but the lecture had started to drag on and he had better things to be doing. He sent another prayer to the Goddess, asking for divine intervention or something when someone knocked on the door.

The old man stopped the tirade and straightened his shoulders.

“Come in,” Felix said, thanking the Goddess for sending someone.

The door swung open and revealed Byleth. The mercenary turned professor turned noblewoman was dressed more casually today in trousers and a button up shirt that managed to be tight and loose at the same time.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said. Her eyes flicked between his father and him as she shut the door behind her.

“You didn’t,” Felix said. His old man looked at him with one eyebrow raised and he sighed. “Byleth, this is my father, Duke Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius. Father, meet Byleth Eisner Gautier.”

“Please, call me Rodrigue,” his father said and bowed.

She gave a slight bow back. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine. Anyone who manages to impress my son with their fighting prowess is someone worth meeting.” He smiled at her and Felix repressed the urge to roll his eyes. “I apologize for being unable to attend your wedding.”

She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Did you need something?” Felix asked. He didn’t want his father to start one of his never-ending exchanges of pleasantries.

“I was wondering if you’d like to join me for some tea?” Byleth clasped her hands in front of her as she spoke.

Felix glanced to his father. His face was neutral, which meant he wouldn’t get chastised later for dipping out.

“Sure.” He grabbed his swords, not wanting to leave them behind, and exited without saying goodbye. He heard Byleth exchange a few more words with his father and then she was in the hall with him.

They walked side by side in silence. Servants brushed past them on occasion, carrying things like silverware and decorations for the ball tonight. One young woman collided into Byleth and almost lost the plates she carried but Byleth managed to steady them both and the minor disaster was averted. She offered a small smile and it was one of the few times Felix thought that it was genuine. 

They stopped in front of the bedroom doors and her hand hesitated on the handle.

“You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to,” she said. “I understand if you just wanted an excuse to get away from your father.”

“It’s fine,” he said, and they entered.

At first, he was surprised to see that Sylvain wasn’t inside before he remembered what he had declared he was going to do this morning. He thought it was a waste of time, but if Sylvain wanted to make himself the fool, that was his problem, not Felix’s.

Byleth walked over to the dresser and grabbed a small box. She sat in one of the upholstered chairs and gestured towards the couch. He watched as she went through the box. The aroma reached his nose and he realized she was selecting the tea. She had quite the collection judging by the size of it. After barely a minute, her fingers snagged one bag and she poured the loose leaves into a mesh holder for the tea to steep.

“Why am I here?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I wanted to have tea with you,” she said. He didn’t believe that. “And I wanted to ask you something.”

“Spit it out then.”

She rolled her shoulders back in what looked like a nervous gesture. “Will you dance with me tonight?”

His eyebrows shot upwards. “Are you serious?”

Byleth nodded. “You were trained as a dancer, right?”

“Who told you?” he asked.

“Annette mentioned it in passing. But it shows in how you fight.” It was barely there, but her tone was almost teasing.

“But why ask me ahead of time?” She and Sylvain were going to be the focus of everyone tonight. If she asked anyone there, they would probably say yes.

“You don’t seem like the type to enjoy surprises.” She lifted the lid of the tea pot to check its color. Still too pale. “Sylvain doesn’t seem to like dancing. I do. If you dance anything like you fight, you’d make a good dance partner.” 

A pang of an emotion Felix refused to acknowledge shot through him. Of course, Sylvain was the reason she was asking him. He doubted she saw him as anything but Sylvain’s friend and lover.

“Ask Annette or Mercedes then. They’d be happy to dance with you.” He crossed his arms across his chest. He wanted to leave but the old man would be sure to find him immediately. “Besides, I don’t like dancing.”

Byleth sighed. It was a small sound, barely audible. “Then forget I said anything.”

His thoughts drifted to his and Sylvain’s conversation last night as she finally poured the tea.

_Sylvain’s fingers carded through Felix’s hair. He rarely let them cuddle for this long after they had sex but something about Sylvain had seemed desperate for affection, so he allowed it._

_“Byleth still hasn’t slept with me,” he said. “Is there something wrong with me?”_

_Felix rolled his eyes, but he knew the question was partially real. Something had been bothering him since he and Byleth had had her their date at the opera. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but it had to be something significant to affect Sylvain like this. Whatever it was, Sylvain needed to get over it._

_“Is she even attracted to men?” Felix asked. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer, but there was no harm asking._

_“Yes. She said Lorenz would probably be a good lover.”_

_Felix scoffed and then considered it seriously. Dorothea had agreed to marry him, and he knew from experience what she liked in her partners…he shook his head, not wanting to go further down that rabbit hole._

_“Have you asked her if she wants to have sex?” he asked._

_Sylvain was silent for a moment too long and Felix lifted his head off his chest to glare at him._

_“No,” Sylvain finally admitted, not meeting his glare. “But she hasn’t hinted at wanting to and she just shuts me down most of the times when I flirt with her. No one has ever resisted my charm this long.”_

_“Ingrid did.”_

_“Fine, no one I was seriously pursuing has resisted me this long.”_

_“Ignatz.”_

_Sylvain pouted. “You’re not being very helpful.”_

_Felix idly considered throttling Sylvain. He imagined his hands encircling his neck and squeezing just enough but the bastard would probably get off on it and Felix was too tired for another round._

_“Why do you even care?” he asked. “You want to knock her up that badly?” It was a low blow, but a part of him was curious._

_Sylvain ran a hand through his hair and gave him a short glare._

_“Do you like her?” Felix asked when he didn’t respond._

_“No,” he said too quickly. “I don’t really know what to feel.”_

_Felix narrowed his eyes. He expected to feel jealous imaging the two of them together, but the emotion never came. Sure, the idea had pissed him off months ago when Sylvain got engaged. Now, however, he wasn’t angry or jealous._

_Maybe it was because she didn’t care about his relationship with Sylvain. Maybe it was because he hadn’t fought someone of her caliber in years. Maybe it was because of the stupidly tight clothes she sometimes wore or how masterfully she wielded the Sword of the Creator. Felix didn’t know why._

_He sighed. A headache was forming behind his brows._

_“I don’t know then. Go ask a woman or someone romantic what to do.”_

_“What would you do,” Sylvain began, “if you were trying to get her to sleep with you?”_

_He was startled by how quickly he knew the answer to the question. “Spar with her and when I win, kiss her. Or just directly ask her. It’s not that hard.”_

_Sylvain just groaned._

Felix was snapped back to the present when the smell of the tea hit him. “Oh, that aroma. My favorite tea,” he said. He brought the cup to his face and inhaled deeply. The smell of Almyran pine needles hit him full force and he closed his eyes.

When he opened them, Byleth was looking at him with something that could be mistaken for a soft smile on her face.

He scowled at her expression. “How’d you know? Wait, let me guess, my form gave it away?”

“No, just a lucky guess.” Even as her smile faded, mirth remained in her eyes. 

He took a sip. “It’s okay.”

“I rather like it.” She took a sip of her own. “So, you have a favorite tea, what about a favorite weapon?”

Now that was a topic he could get into.

*

The two of them hit the stone bricks of the training room hard. Byleth took most of the impact due to her being the one tackled, but his knees hit the ground so hard he felt the reverberation all the way up to his teeth.

The impact left her momentarily dazed. Felix used the opportunity to pin her arms to her chest and rest the remainder of his weight on her knees, pinning her. She tried to buck him off, but his hold was too tight, and the position gave her no leverage to work with. Maybe if she had a strength-based Crest, she could shake him off, but her stamina and healing did little now.

She tried again and he only tightened his hold, squeezing her legs and wrists.

They’d ended up in the sparring ring after a discussion about who’d be better at grappling. Byleth won the first and second rounds and he had just won the third. Or he would win if she just accepted her defeat.

“Stop wiggling,” he snapped, trying to get his breathing under control.

She didn’t respond, only giving him what he assumed was her form of a glare. Byleth moved again and something in him snapped.

It was simple to shift his weight forward to close the distance between their faces and kiss her. Her lips were cool, a sharp contrast to the heat of his own.

The contrast was searing, and it only served to rile him up further. His grip must have weakened on her wrists because she brought her hands up to grab his face and pull him until they couldn’t possibly get any closer. One of his hands came up to grip her shirt to maintain their closeness while the other began to wander down her sides.

Felix wasn’t sure who bit who first, but it led to them exchanging harsh bites between kisses. All he could think about was the press of their bodies and how good felt to be kissing her.

When he tried to slip his tongue her mouth, she bit it, albeit light enough to be teasing, but the jolt of pain shocked him back into reality.

He planted his hands and shoved himself off her, retreating until he stood over her. Byleth came up to her forearms, her back still on the ground, looking disheveled and confused. She was finally breathing heavily but the small victory did nothing to calm him.

“I have to go,” Felix said and rushed out of the training room, leaving Byleth to stare at his retreating back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everytime I try to not end a chapter on a dramatic note, I fail, so I've given up trying for now. Hope you enjoyed!


	8. Sway with Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ball is held in honor of Byleth and Sylvain's marriage. Dancing and trouble ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi dear readers, I'm going to be going on a short hiatus due to a few personal things that have come up. As such, this chapter was a little rushed and will be the only chapter for the next month or so. This fic is by no means being abandoned. I just need time to sort through things.

Byleth disliked being watched by this many people. It wasn’t so much the attention but the intention behind all the stares. Rhea had warned her that her new life would be full of scrutiny. Even with the warning, she hadn’t been prepared. Hundreds of eyes watched Sylvain and her enter the ballroom and she was certain many of them were looking for flaws, things to pick at or comment on.

In some ways, it wasn’t unlike being on the battlefield. The first person to make a mistake dies. Except, instead of an injury or your life, you pay reputation and relationships.

For all Sylvain’s façade of incompetence, her husband knew how to play the game. He was raised in it and learning from a more experienced teacher was how Byleth learned best. Their wedding had been a practice run. No one expected her to act like a noble then. This was the real deal. She expected that she still had some leniency being new to this, but it would only extend so far and her conversation with Lonato from days ago still rang fresh in her mind.

She picked him out easily in the crowd. He was masking it well, but Byleth knew what pure hatred felt like and it was difficult to contain something that strong. Ashe stood next to him, all smiles. A part of Byleth felt guilty that he was so attached to his adopted father, not that she could blame him for that. If the tension between the Western and Central churches came to a head, Lonato would certainly lose his.

Lonato was a concern for another day. Trying to seem pleasant was her current concern. She needed allies and there was no point in worrying about enemies she couldn’t sway.

Byleth did her best to smile and nod along at the appropriate parts as Dimitri made the opening speech. She continued to scan the crowd as subtly as possible, noting familiar faces from the wedding and the new ones. Dorothea and Lorenz stood out, both impeccably dressed. Byleth caught her eye and the songstress dipped her head with a smile.

There wasn’t any more time to scan the crowd further because the orchestra picked up their instruments and the music swelled. The crowd parted easily for her and Sylvain to step out onto to the middle of the dancefloor.

Like at their wedding, Byleth subtly led. Not that Sylvain was a bad dancer. Byleth was just better. Unlike at their wedding, he seemed to be enjoying it more. He didn’t resist as she pulled them across the floor with slight changes of pressure from her hands. The smile on his face was certainly for appearances, but the light in his eyes seemed to be genuine enjoyment.

“Having fun?” she asked, letting go of his shoulder as she spun outwards.

“With you in my arms, how could I not be?” he said.

Sylvain pulled her back in after a beat. His pull was stronger than she expected, and she had to briefly rest her free hand on his chest to regain her balance.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I am now,” Byleth said. Sure, she could still feel the eyes of the crowd on them, but the two of them felt like they were in the eye of the storm together.

“If it helps,” he began, as if he knew what was bothering her, “most of the people here won’t remember or care about anything that we do tonight in a few months.” His eyes dragged down and back up her body. “Well, maybe they’ll still be talking about your dress. I know I will be.”

She glanced away, looking at the dancing couples around them and then back out to the crowd. They were being watched, but not with the same scrutiny as earlier. The fun had started, and she wasn’t the only interesting person in the room to watch.

“That does help, thank you.”

“Anything for you, my rose.”

Something must have shown on her face because he asked, “Do you not like that nickname?”

“It doesn’t seem genuine.”

His face gave nothing away, but his fingers tightened ever so slightly on her waist. “It wasn’t at first,” Sylvain admitted.

The song ended and they stopped, the crowd clapping around them. Byleth stood on her tiptoes and reached up, gently cupping his face to pull it down to meet hers. Their lips met, turning the clapping into a dull buzzing. She expected him to deepen the kiss, to turn it into a show for their audience, but he didn’t. It allowed Byleth to relish the feel of him against her before they broke apart.

Someone cleared their throat behind them and Byleth turned to see a mildly embarrassed Dimitri.

“May I have this next dance?” the king asked, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Yes,” she said and placed her hand in his.

Dimitri’s hands were barely there against her skin. Whether it was out of politeness or out of fear of his own strength, Byleth didn’t know. He was a passable dancer. Too stiff to be good but he easily let Byleth take the lead.

They made small talk until the song was over and a different noble asked Byleth to dance. She said yes to anyone who asked and was able to convince a few to dance with her before someone else pounced.

Sylvain had been correct about her dress. Almost every person she had danced with had mentioned it. It certainly was a lovely dress. The blush pink satin was covered in black lace and the A-line cut meant it was easy to move in. The portrait neckline had seemed like a good choice when the dress had been made. The cut was flattering and had gotten Manuela’s approval back at the monastery. It was too bad that some of the nobles were using their time on the dancefloor to stare down it.

Byleth had “accidentally” stepped on the feet of the ones that did that and memorized their faces to ask Sylvain about them later. Dedue had actually intervened after one particularly drunk noble tried to grab her ass. The man clearly hated dancing but he brushed away the noble with ease and taken his place. It had made her smile.

Besides Sylvain, Mercedes and Annette had been her favorite dance partners. Felix had been right. They were good and they had fun. Byleth had been worried that dancing with Annette would be a series of near crashes with other couples, but she was surprisingly steady on her feet. Mercedes had surprised Byleth by insisting on leading and she was surprised even more when the woman dipped her.

Throughout it all, she exchanged glances with Sylvain, even though they didn’t get the chance to dance with each other again. Byleth continued to scan the crowd for Felix, but she never found him. She thought she had spotted him once, but it turned out to just be Rodrigue.

Ashe was her current dance partner and he was clearly nervous from all the attention. He wasn’t a bad dancer, but he lacked confidence and was almost as stiff as Ingrid had been. The man practically drooped in relief when the song was over.

Byleth was about to give him some encouraging words when a hand clapped down on his shoulder. Her eyes trailed upwards and saw the smiling face of Lonato.

“Lord Lonato!” Ashe said with the same mix of reverence and excitement he always did when Lonato was brought up.

“Ashe, my boy, you’ve improved so much from where you started,” the older man said.

Ashe flushed at the compliment before bowing and leaving.

“May I have the next dance?” Lonato asked.

“Of course,” she said and reluctantly took his hand.

Byleth hoped he was a person who preferred to focus on the dancing rather than the talking. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sylvain smile glaring at Lonato from the sidelines. He’d decided to take a break while she remained on the dancefloor. It was a decision he was clearly regretting.

“Enjoying the evening so far?” Lonato asked, pulling her in until they could properly position themselves.

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes, but I’m sure things will pick up as the evening draws on.” There wasn’t a threat in his words but there was in his tone. “Do you believe in the Goddess?”

The question startled her. Rhea had asked her the same question when she had first arrived at the Monastery. It was difficult to answer. Sothis had certainly existed and Byleth housed the remnants of her powers but that wasn’t what Lonato was asking. He was asking if she believed in an omnipotent deity that existed to protect Fodlan and its inhabitants. Considering she knew Sothis, the answer was a no. But she was a representative of the Central Church.

“Yes. Although, I don’t pray very often,” she said. It was the truth.

“I pray every day.”

“Strength can come from one’s faith.”

They turned and she caught Sylvain’s gaze briefly before they turned once more. They were slightly off tempo, moving just a bit too quickly. It irked Byleth, but she wasn’t about to fight to lead.

“Then I will have to start praying for the Goddess to give me strength to defeat my enemies.” The threat in his tone was clear this time.

Byleth didn’t like battlefields like this. Give her a weapon in her hand and she’d be content. Not this game of insults and threats with no hard moves.

“She won’t grant that wish. Sothis is more of a go out and get it yourself type.”

Lonato stiffened, likely furious at her blasphemy. “You dare speak of knowing the Goddess’ intentions?”

“I do.”

The blunt answer seemed to infuriate him further and his mask began to slip.

“You’re just Rhea’s whore, sent to spread your legs for the highest bidder. You know nothing of the Goddess.”

“Tell me then, if your offer had been accepted and we were married, what were your intentions?” Byleth gripped his hand and pulled herself closer until their bodies were almost touching. “Would you fuck me and pretend I was Rhea? Or would you kill me and parade my body around in the name of the Goddess?” She leaned in even closer, her grip turning painful. “You’d never have gotten the chance.”

He tried to shove her away, but her grip held. If Byleth was someone else, she’d probably be smiling to taunt him. Being herself, her expression stayed blank. On the battlefield it had earned her the nickname, the Ashen Demon. She suspected it was just as unsettling up close.

Byleth let him go when the song ended. She followed him as he stomped off to the edge of the crowd, searching for Sylvain. He caught her arm, pulling her in towards him so he could lean down and whisper.

“You okay? It looked like things got pretty heated.”

“If he hadn’t wanted me dead before, her certainly does now,” she whispered back.

Sylvain pulled away and studied her face. “You look like you need a drink. Let’s go.”

His hand found hers and they wormed their way through the crowd. Sylvain masterfully brushed off anyone that approached them to talk. Nearer to the edge of the room, away from the more packed section, it was easy enough to find a circling server and snag two wineglasses. The woman practically stumbled when Sylvain flagged her down, seemingly surprised that he would speak to her. Her hands trembled as she handed the champagne flutes over, bowing profusely once done.

Byleth’s gaze trailed after her, curious to see if she’d fumble when speaking to any other nobles but the server was blocked off by the movement of the crowd.

“To us,” Sylvain said and clinked his glass against hers.

“To us,” she echoed.

He downed half of the bubbly liquid in one go while she took a smaller sip, letting it fizz across her tongue before swallowing.

“Better?” he asked.

She nodded, not clarifying that it was his presence and not the alcohol that made her feel that way.

“How much longer will this last?” she asked.

“Probably a couple more hours at least.” He grinned. One of his eyebrows raised in a partial taunt. “Want to sneak away?”

Byleth couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips.

*

They made it to a nearby balcony, shutting the doors behind them with a satisfying click. Even with the doors shut, the music and the chatter of the guests could still be made out. But it sounded smothered, like it was coming through a blanket. It was cool out, the weather continuing to turn colder even though autumn had just barely gripped Fodlan. Byleth set her champagne glass on the stone railing and leaned over to look at the garden below. Lamps had been lit and although it wasn’t an official location for the ball tonight, couples strolled through it.

Sylvain came up behind her and wrapped himself around her. His head rested easily on top of hers, tucking her securely into his embrace. She wasn’t cold but the touch filled her with warmth all the same.

It was a beautiful night. So beautiful, Byleth would’ve been content to stay in Sylvain’s arms until all the guests left. But the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted that.

He wheeled them around and Felix stood there, one hand in his hair and the other on his hip.

“There you are,” she said.

“Have you been out here all night?” Sylvain asked, loosening his hold on her ever so slightly.

“You two look cozy,” Felix said.

The dodged question hung in the air between the three of them. She would bet that the answer was a yes. He probably didn’t want to dance with anyone.

The words “care to join us” flashed through Byleth’s mind and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from speaking them. They never had a chance to discuss the kiss. All three of them had a lot of things they needed to talk about. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to bring any of it up.

Instead, she asked, “No swords tonight?” Now she’s the one avoiding what was previously said.

Felix scoffed like what she said was stupid. “Of course not. It’s a ball.”

“I still have my dagger,” she said.

His eyebrows shot upwards as Sylvain let out a brief laugh.

“You do?” Sylvain asked at the same time Felix asked, “Where?”

She released an arm from Sylvain’s grasp and tapped her upper right thigh where her dagger was strapped to her leg. His hand followed hers, trailing down her sides to rest where the hilt could barely be felt through the material of her dress.

Even through the fabric, the movement sent tingles throughout her body. Maybe it was the cool night air against her flushed skin or maybe it was because Felix was watching. She didn’t know exactly.

“I like to be prepared at all times,” she said simply.

“No one’s stupid enough to try anything tonight,” Felix said.

Byleth felt Sylvain nod against her head. “Besides, many of the Kingdom’s best fighters are here.”

“I feel safer with it,” she said and left it at that. If she was still at the Monastery and if they were her students, she’d argue the point that it was always good to be prepared and that danger rarely marched in and announced itself. But Byleth wasn’t at the Monastery and they certainly weren’t her students.

“Am I not enough to make you feel safe?” Sylvain asked. The pout was clear in his tone, even if she couldn’t see it. “Do you need to see me take down some big bad bandits to convince you how strong I am?”

Felix rolled his eyes and Byleth couldn’t help but smile.

“I know you’re a good fighter. Maybe a little too flashy,” Byleth teased.

“Hey, I have to keep people entertained.”

The conversation devolved into fighting techniques with Sylvain arguing the merits of drawing the eye. Slowly, like a stray cat uncertain if he could trust them or not, Felix made his way over to them until they were all leaning against the balcony. Sylvain stood in the middle, one arm wrapped around Byleth’s shoulders and the other around Felix. It was nice. It must have been too warm for Sylvain in the middle like that because he’d started sweating, but he didn’t complain.

The conversation lulled into a companionable silence, letting the music of the orchestra become noticeable once more. Her eyes fell closed and she let the music wash over her. It was a song she recognized, but she couldn’t place where she knew it from. She slipped out of Sylvain’s loose hold and started dancing. The slight click of her heels against the cool stone was audible as she moved.

She was so focused on trying to place the song, on letting the music move her, that she hadn’t noticed Felix’s approach until he was touching her. He placed her hand on his shoulder and grasped the other one in his as he easily fell into the rhythm of the dance.

At first, she was stiff, not wanting to let him lead. But Felix simply tugged her along until she relaxed, and they flowed together. And she had been right. He was a good dancer. Probably the best she had danced with all night.

“You said you hated dancing,” Byleth said.

“I do.” 

“You said you wouldn’t dance with me.”

“I did.” He wasn’t quite scowling, but his brow was furrowed and his mouth was in a tight line.

Byleth glanced at Sylvain over Felix’s shoulder. He smiled softly but his gaze seemed unfocused.

“What made you change your mind?” she asked.

“If you keep talking, I’ll stop.”

She stopped talking and let the music flow through her as they waltzed on the balcony.

The song changed and Byleth still hadn’t placed where she recognized the tune from. She expected Felix to let go of her and for them to return to their earlier conversation. Instead, he pulled her in just a little closer and kept dancing.

She sent another glance at Sylvain, but her husband seemed content just to watch. He sipped at what remained of Byleth’s champagne with that same soft smile on his face.

Byleth lost count of how many songs they danced to, enjoying the peace of dancing with only Sylvain’s eyes on them. She stopped glancing at him when each song started so it came at a sharp surprise when he collapsed. The champagne glass shattered as he hit the ground.

They were over to him in an instant. Felix rolled him onto his back while Byleth called forth her magic in an attempt to heal him. Sylvain’s skin was pallid and clammy. His pupils were dilated, and saliva leaked out of his mouth. After a sharp tremor ran through him, he threw up all over his doublet.

“Sylvain, can you speak?” Byleth asked.

His mouth opened and then close. She couldn’t tell if he tried to nod or shake his head with how bad he trembled.

She opened his mouth but his tongue wasn’t swollen and neither was his throat. It wasn’t an allergic reaction.

“Poison,” Felix said at the same time Byleth reached that conclusion.

Her magic did little to help. Her healing was better for quick patch jobs on the battlefield or simple cuts and bruises. Not poison. She cursed, wishing she’d spent some time learning poisons and their antidotes, but it had never been her specialty.

“Is there an apothecary in the palace?” she asked.

Felix shook his head. “The court healer was killed a year ago. Dimitri hasn’t replaced her yet. Mercedes should know what to do.”

“Go get her.”

He was off before she finished giving the order.

Sylvain stared up at her with his pupils blown and his breath coming in far too quickly. Whatever the poison was, it had been in the champagne. She must have not ingested enough to affect her. She pushed his hair out of his face and placed her hands on his forehead. With her eyes closed it was easier to try and slow the beat of his heart and help his lungs expand and contract, but she wouldn’t be able to keep it up.

Byleth released her magic and reached for the divine energy Sothis had given her. The power was familiar even though it had been months since she last used it.

“I’ll save you,” she promised and turned back the hands of time.

Byleth had rarely used the power outside of combat, so it was strange to watch such simple events play out in reverse. She pushed and pushed until each second, she gained felt like slogging through mud. When she reached her limit, she took a moment to catch her breath and then let time slam forward again.

She wasn’t sure exactly how far back she managed to go back, but she was still dancing with Felix and Sylvain was still standing. Byleth broke free of Felix’s loose hold and slapped the champagne glass out of Sylvain’s hand.

It shattered and she heard Felix curse behind her, but she was too busy helping Sylvain to the ground.

“Go get Mercedes. Sylvain’s been poisoned,” she said.

“I’m fine,” Sylvain slurred, but Felix was already off, the balcony doors slamming in his wake.

“How’d you know?” he managed to say.

Byleth shushed him and concentrated her magic once more. It was easier to find where to help having done it before and by the time Felix showed up with Mercedes, his condition hadn’t worsened by much.

“Symptoms?” Mercedes asked. Her normal cheerful tone was gone.

“Dilated eyes, tremors, shortness of breath, nausea, sweating, lethargy, and hypersalivation,” Byleth answered.

“Onset?”

“Maybe twenty minutes ago. Whatever it was, was in the champagne.”

Someone gasped and Byleth turned to see Ashe and Annette. They must have followed when Felix grabbed Mercedes.

“That sounds like,” Ashe began but trailed off when he noticed Byleth looking at him.

“What?” Felix asked.

“Those are the symptoms of a poison found in some animals from the coast.” His eyes darted, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze. “There’s no antidote.”

Felix cursed and Byleth wanted to do the same. Instead, she turned to Mercedes.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I think I can stabilize him, but I’m not sure. I’m going to put him to sleep to try and help.”

Byleth squeezed Sylvain’s hand and she thought he tried to squeeze her hand back.

“Do it,” Felix said.

Sylvain’s eyes fluttered shut. His tremors didn’t stop, but his breathing leveled a bit. She was distantly aware of a crowd starting to gather and Felix breaking off to shoo them away. Byleth’s eyes never left Sylvain, too focused on counting the rise and fall of his breaths.

She eventually had to be pulled away so they could move him somewhere more private. Annette came up and hugged her. Byleth let her cry into her chest and she vowed that whoever did this was going to pay. No one hurt her family and got away with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for the wonderful comments and kudos! 
> 
> Sorry to end on a cliffhanger like this but Sylvain will pull through and there will be a happy ending.


	9. Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Byleth deal with the aftermath of Sylvain's poisoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added tag: implied/referenced rape/non-con 
> 
> If you want to avoid the scene where rape is suggested, do NOT read the part between the three backslashes (written like this ///). In the dialogue following that section, it's hinted at what was said, but not directly. No rape happens, it is just suggested. Lmk if I need to move the backslashes further down. 
> 
> Also it's starting to slowly inch into the explicit territory. Imo, this chapter is only mature, but thought I'd give a heads up

The next few days passed as if Felix was walking through a never-ending fog on a battlefield. Enemies surrounded him, but he could only swing his sword and miss, his enemies always just out of reach. And throughout it all, Sylvain stayed asleep.

Mercedes’ hands were clasped when she announced that since he survived the first 24 hours, he would live. Felix’s relief was so palpable he could practically taste it. Said relief vanished when she continued, adding that she didn’t know when or if he would wake up.

“I’m sorry,” Mercedes said, and the resoluteness of her healer’s voice faltered. “I’ve done everything I can for him. It’s in the Goddess’ hands now.”

“Thank you, Mercedes,” Byleth said, staring at Sylvain’s comatose face. Her hands were tight around the Sword of the Creator. Felix wasn’t sure when she had retrieved her Relic, but it hadn’t left her side since. He supposed that it was her way of preparing for anyone who might come try to finish the job. Felix didn’t think that was going to happen. Still, being prepared never hurt anyone.

Shortly after Mercedes’ verdict, Dimitri called a meeting. It was a small one. Just the former Blue Lions, Byleth, and his old man. Dedue had volunteered to watch over Sylvain while the meeting took place. If he hadn’t, Felix thought that Byleth would’ve had to be dragged away from his side. He hadn’t realized, nor had anyone else apparently, just how protective she was.

The meeting was a waste of time. Everyone was just talking in circles, trying to figure out the who and why of the poisoning. Only the how was certain. Sylvain had ingested the poison via the champagne.

And then Byleth threw the certainty of that too out the window.

“The poison could have been in my glass.” She spoke slowly, as if it would help the realization sink in for the rest of them.

Felix had already entertained this line of thought too.

“Then why weren’t you affected?” Ashe asked, voicing the question on Felix’s mind.

“I only took a couple of small sips,” she said.

Mercedes shook her head. “That still should have had some affect.”

Byleth was ready for that rebuttal. “What about my Crest? Sleeping draughts only work on me in high doses.”

No one knew the answer to that. Dimitri made a note to send a letter to Hanneman to ask if his Crest research ever dealt with poisonings, but they all doubted a concrete answer. Blood samples was one thing. Poisoning professors and students with Crests was something else entirely.

“If it was in your glass and not Sylvain’s, that changes things,” Dimitri said.

“What if it was in both glasses?” Annette suggested.

The conversation erupted anew, everyone throwing out various theories. Most were plausible, but overtime Felix’s headache grew and so did the ridiculousness of some of the theories.

Throughout it all, Felix kept his eyes on Byleth. She had been quiet, which wasn’t unusual, but compared to how quickly and authoritatively she’d taken over the situation a couple of nights ago, it was jarring. He suspected she had her own suspicions but had yet to share them with the group. Normally, that would piss him off, but a part of him recognized that whatever trust she had built up with any of them had been lost with the poisoning. Still, if it meant ending this waste of a time and getting answers, her comfort didn’t matter. Much.

He felt his father’s eyes on him as he finally voiced his question. “What happened at the opera?”

The rest of the conversations fell quiet as all eyes fell on Byleth. Said woman was staring back at Felix with a not-quite glare.

“I met Lord Lonato,” she said. “I spoke with him again at the ball. We,” she paused, searching for the right words, “have a difference of opinions.”

“With Lord Lonato?” Ashe sounded hesitant.

Byleth shrugged. “He isn’t a fan of the Central Church,” she said simply and let the rest of them fill in the blanks. “But I don’t think he was the one behind the poisoning.”

Felix heard the unspoken _at least not directly_.

“Well then, I think we all have a lot to consider, but unfortunately no concrete evidence,” Dimitri said. “We’ll continue searching.”

*

The next day was another meeting. Three days had passed since Sylvain’s poisoning and Dimitri had made up his mind.

“Byleth, I think it would be best if you went north to Gautier,” Dimitri said, using his “this is a suggestion but I am the king” voice Felix had heard far too many times in recent years. “We can’t do anything more for Sylvain besides continuing the search. The two of you will be safer somewhere more isolated.”

Byleth simply nodded.

“I’ll go with them,” Felix heard himself saying. A scowl overtook his face as everyone in the small room quickly turned to stare at him. The looks varied from incredulous to disappointment, the last obviously from Ingrid. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, purposefully not looking at Byleth or his old man. “What? I know Gautier territory well and they’re going to need extra protection. I’m far less conspicuous than a group of knights.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” his father said. “The smaller the party, the less obvious, and I’m confident that between my son and Byleth, most threats will be rendered useless. That is, of course, if my son’s presence wouldn’t bother you, Byleth?”

Felix still wouldn’t meet her gaze. He didn’t want to find out what he’d see there and squashed down the panic at the possibility that she might say no.

“I’d appreciate the help, thank you.”

It was decided then. Logistics followed, with Felix leading the discussion until arrangements were hammered out for their departure tomorrow.

On the way out, his father stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Felix, please be careful,” he said far too knowingly. He wasn’t talking about staying physically safe. Felix scoffed and turned away wordlessly.

*

Four days after the poisoning, Felix found himself on the road with Byleth and a handful of knights. All of them were dressed like mercenaries. Sylvain was carefully arranged in the back of the wagon and they took turns staying inside with him to make sure his condition didn’t worsen.

At night, Byleth would sleep sitting up, guarding the entrance to the wagon. The knights tried to insist she sleep in a tent. She refused every time and by the third night, they gave up. He never tried to convince her otherwise. Felix had his own expression of worry. He’d patrol the exterior of the camp and beyond to ensure no one was nearby.

By the time their small caravan made it to the Gautier’s winter villa and Byleth’s new home, almost everyone in the group had dark circles that rivaled Sylvain’s. It was what a week on the road at a snail’s pace did to people. Felix was never going to complain about rushing while traveling again.

The Margrave and Margravine were waiting for them.

The Margravine reacted first, rushing to walk beside the stretcher as Sylvain was carried inside. It was the most maternal Felix had seen her be in years.

The Margrave was a different matter.

“Has the culprit been located?” he asked.

“No,” Felix said. “The King has an investigation underway.”

The Margrave didn’t even look at him, his gaze scrutinizing Byleth’s form. She looked more comfortable in the loose leathers and warm coat of a mercenary than she had in any outfit he’d seen her in before. Under the stern gaze of the Margrave, all that comfort disappeared. She didn’t fidget, Felix didn’t think she quite knew how, but discomfort radiated off her stiff posture in small waves.

“You don’t look pregnant,” the Margrave finally said after his long scrutiny.

Byleth blinked twice in quick succession. Felix recognized it as her tell for surprise.

“I’m not,” she said.

“Unfortunate,” he said and went inside.

Felix waited for her to collect herself before they followed after him. Sylvain would’ve put a comforting arm around her or taken her hand. He did neither of those things.

He hadn’t been to this particular villa since he was a small child. From what he had been told, it would be Sylvain and Byleth’s main residence until the Margrave stepped down. Considering the man’s disposition, he doubted it would happen anytime soon. Certainly not until after an heir or two or four had been born with the Crest of Gautier.

Shaking his head to rid himself of that unpleasant thought, Felix looked around the foyer. Not much had changed since he had last visited. Or if it had, he couldn’t recognize what was different. He’d never been much for architecture or decorations unless weapons were a part of it. When Sylvain woke up, he’d ask about it. Not because Felix cared if they had redecorated or not, but because it was the type of dumb question Sylvain would answer with far too much detail because he knew it would annoy Felix.

He missed that.

*

Felix had been on the way to check on Sylvain’s condition when the sound of people talking stopped him just outside the door. It was the physician, he forgot her name, and both the Margrave and the Margravine.

///

“So it’s possible then?” the Margrave asked. He almost sounded relieved. Felix wasn’t sure because he didn’t think he had ever heard the man sound relieved before. He hadn’t realized it was an emotion the Margrave even possessed.

“In theory, but…” the physician trailed off. Something or someone deterred her from completing the sentence.

“You must be joking.” Byleth’s voice came through the door clearly. The past couple of weeks had given him more opportunities to recognize her vocal emotional range. The anger in her voice was clear and made her words biting.

“Of course not,” the Margrave said, and Felix could picture him standing there with his arms crossed across his chest and a patronizing look on his face.

“Then you’re delusional. I won’t do it.”

“You will. You must,” he snapped.

“No.”

There was a pause and the sound of someone breathing heavily. Felix was tempted to go in, to disrupt the argument unfolding but he still wasn’t sure what it was the Margrave was trying to convince Byleth to do.

“If you’re unwilling because he’s not awake, there is another alternative,” the Margravine said. Her voice was tentative, but determination ran through it. “There is another man who bears the Gautier Crest and who is not presently in a coma.”

Felix’s stomach plummeted so quickly he went from fine to nauseous in a second as the realization struck him. They were discussing how to get an heir. Around the bed that their comatose son laid in. He had hated Sylvain’s parents before. Now he reviled them. He didn’t know how Byleth hadn’t already attacked them. He certainly would’ve if he had been in the room.

///

“This conversation is over,” Byleth said. Her voice shook with rage. “If anyone brings up the topic of heirs in front of me again before Sylvain is healthy, I’ll make certain it’s the last thing you ever say. You should be worried about your son’s health.”

“Did you just threaten me?” the Margrave asked, tone incredulous.

“Yes.”

And then the door opened and Byleth stormed past him, the click of her heels dominating the otherwise silent house. Another door opened and slammed shut somewhere down and behind him, and he figured she’d left the house.

A glance inside the room showed him the nurse, Margravine, and Margrave standing around Sylvain’s sleeping form. Their expressions varied from horrified to enraged. Under other circumstances, it would be amusing to see the Margrave looking so insulted. Instead, disgust welled further until Felix felt as if he was drowning in it.

It took a while, but Felix eventually found where Byleth had stormed off to. She sat at a base of a tree in a pile of fall leaves with her eyes closed and her legs crossed. It almost looked as if she was meditating. Or maybe praying. That seemed more realistic. But her lips weren’t moving in prayer nor were her hands clasped together so maybe not. He sighed and sat next to her.

For a few minutes, they sat in silence. Byleth in the same position and Felix with his arms braced against his knees.

“Have they always been so horrible?” she asked.

He didn’t have to ask if she meant Sylvain’s parents. “Yes. They got worse after Miklan stole the Lance of Ruin and had to be put down.”

“Sylvain was the one who killed him.” It wasn’t phrased as a question. Her tone remained flat, with no upturn at the end, yet it was a question all the same.

“He dealt the final blow.”

It was Byleth’s turn to sigh. For a moment, he thought she was going to ask more about that incident. Instead, she answered a question Felix had forgotten he had ever had.

“No wonder Sylvain hates me,” she said.

Felix couldn’t help but scoff and Byleth turned to stare blankly at him. Except it wasn’t blank blank, it was the “I’m confused and you know something I don’t” blank look. Not to be confused with her blank “I can’t figure out what you’re thinking about” look.

“He doesn’t hate you anymore. At first, he did. He thought you were a noble chaser.” Byleth didn’t respond so he added, “Recently, it’s been bothering him that you two haven’t had sex.”

Her face screwed into what was probably horror or disgust when Felix realized the context of their conversation.

“Not like that. He’s insecure.” He didn’t elaborate. It wasn’t his place to go spilling all of Sylvain’s personal issues to her.

Despite his minimal words, Byleth must have got it because she nodded.

“Do you hate me?” she asked, and this time Felix had to roll his eyes.

“I wouldn’t be here if I did.” He shifted, placing his hands on the soft dirt and leaves as he transferred his weight a bit. His ass was going numb.

“I thought you were here for Sylvain.” She said it slowly as if to make sure he heard every word.

“Do I have to spell everything out for you? I’m here for you too.” He gestured at their closeness to emphasize his point.

If he had said that to Sylvain, the man would have teased him mercilessly for it. All Byleth did was slow blink at him.

Then she was moving forward, crowding Felix against the tree. He watched her movements with wide eyes. She hesitated and for a few moments their breaths intermingled. And then she pressed forward again, barely kissing the corner of his mouth. If she hadn’t been so deliberate about it, it could’ve been mistaken for her missing his cheek. But she had been deliberate. Felix’s face flushed and he had to look away in embarrassment.

“Thank you,” Byleth said to the back of his head.

He didn’t respond.

*

If it was the thought of her lips fully on his that had him coming later in his hand that night, that was a detail between him and the Goddess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! My life is still a disaster but the break helped and I should be back to posting every two weeks. I can't do Sundays anymore, so I'll be aiming for Wednesday updates but I may have to adjust that too. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me~


	10. Only Love Can Hurt Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and Byleth settle into a routine while they wait for Sylvain to wake up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the "Felix is frustrated tag." It's been in the tags for a while but this chapter is really emblematic of it
> 
> Edit: added chapter title

The Margrave and Margravine left the next day. Felix waited by Byleth as she stood in the doorway, watching long after they were out of sight.

Their absence meant that the two of them were free to do whatever they pleased. And like they had on the road, they settled into a routine of sorts. Felix liked routine, up to a point. He typically fell into a schedule of some kind no matter where he was. This far into Gautier territory, however, meant there wasn’t much to do.

When he and Sylvain were younger, they got into trouble pretty much every day. Felix had hated to be left out of anything, especially when it came to any of his friends. He was pretty sure his father had paid a governess double one summer after the two of them had been even worse than usual. The next summer, they’d had Dimitri and Ingrid with them and the only thing that got out them all out of their scolding was Felix’s crying and Dimitri’s profuse apologies. Not that he would admit any of that aloud.

With both of Sylvain’s parents gone, however, and Felix an adult, there wasn’t really much trouble he could get into. All the staff were pleasant enough and it wasn’t like he was running through the halls with his sword brandished, breaking old vases left and right.

He did break one of the teacups one day when Sylvain’s hand had twitched. The movement had startled him and Byleth both, and he had dropped the fine porcelain, shattering it against the hardwood. Sylvain didn’t so much as twitch again and it left Felix feeling foolish enough to leave the room.

He and Byleth had started having tea together each afternoon, after Felix shaved Sylvain’s face, keeping the stubble at bay. Byleth hadn’t invited him to join so much as pointedly stare at the seat next to her as she picked through her assortment of tea leaves until he gave in and sat down. 

The ritual was comforting and on the fifth day on their own, Felix decided they needed another ritual. He entered her room without knocking and shook her awake.

“Get up,” he said.

A hand shot up to grip his wrist. Her hold loosened after she cracked an eye open and realized just who had awakened her so rudely. Byleth stretched and the gesture caused the fabric of her sleepshirt to rise up just enough to expose a milky strip of her belly. Felix had to look away.

“Did something happen?” she finally asked, standing up from her sleep spot on the chaise lounge.

“No. I’m going to introduce you to the Gautier Knights and ask them if we can join in on their training.”

All the sleepiness vanished from her green eyes. “There’s a group of them stationed here?”

“In town,” he said and turned to face the wall as she got dressed. The former mercenary seemed to have few boundaries concerning nudity, which was far too helpful in fueling his recent fantasies. “We’re close enough to the Sreng border that they’re needed. There are outposts of them at various points along it. The proximity to the border is also why the Gautier’s have a home here.”

She hummed in response and Felix turned back around when the sound of her lacing up her boots reached his ears. She was dressed like a mercenary again and the look suited her.

“Let’s go,” he said.

It was a short ride into town and still early enough that few were up and about. Those that were awake gave them doubletakes. Green hair was an uncommon enough hair color, and someone must have said that Sylvain’s wife had it or a portrait of her had been passed around. Regardless of the how, Byleth was recognized, but she showed no sign that she noticed.

Felix wondered if he was recognized too. That wasn’t a problem, but he hadn’t considered the implications if he was seen running around with Byleth while her new husband was in a coma.

He shook his head, banishing the thought. Let them. Gossip was the least of their concerns right now.

The two of them managed to tie up their horses at the barracks before they were approached. They’d been watched on the way in, but no one stopped them, probably recognizing Felix and maybe Byleth. It wasn’t until the captain made her way over that he realized that the other knights had probably been waiting for their leader to make the introductions.

Felix didn’t remember the captain’s name, but he recognized her. She was one of the few Gautier Knights that preferred an axe over a lance, and she knew how to use it. And as covered in scars and as tall as she was, it was hard to forget her. He was certain Sylvain had taken up axe training just to impress the older woman.

“Lady Byleth, it is a pleasure to meet you.” The captain put a closed fist to her heart and bowed. “The Gautier Knights are honored to serve you and are proud of someone as talented as yourself joining the Gautier family.”

“The honor is mine, and please call me Byleth. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to people calling me lady.” Byleth held out her hand and the captain shook it after a brief hesitation.

“Very well, Byleth it is. Then I’ll ask you that you call me Astrid.” The smile she offered seemed genuine. “It’s good to see you too, Felix. I think the last time you were this tall.” The captain held out her hand to her shoulder. “Not that you’ve grown much since then. Do they not know how to feed their men in Fraldarius?”

“I eat enough,” Felix said, pointedly ignoring the comment about his height. “We were wondering if we could join in on some of your training.”

Astrid considered for a moment before nodding. “Of course. We’d appreciate any feedback you have for us as well.” She made eye contact with Byleth. “It’s likely there will come a day where we’ll fight side by side in real combat, so this is good practice.”

“Thank you,” Byleth said. “I’m eager to learn from you and the rest of the Knights.”

*

Training with the Knights taught Felix a lot, but mostly it was more about Byleth. In Fhirdiad she had only ever used swords. This was the first time he got to see her skills with other weapons and mounts and it was enlightening.

Her sword skills were impeccable, her brawling excellent, and her magic good. Put any other weapon in her hand or put her on a mount and she was just solid. Her form was there, she understood the mechanics, but there wasn’t the skill that came with years of familiarity.

That didn’t mean she suddenly became a pushover. Even on a horse or with an axe in hand, Byleth was still one of the best fighters there. It took Felix watching a few rounds of her in a mock skirmish before he understood. She was a tactician. He’d recognized her uncanny ability to anticipate his moves when they sparred. It was different watching it play out in the field. She wasn’t even the one calling orders, but each of her movements seemed to create a ripple until the other side was routed.

Not for the first time, Felix wondered just how desperate for an alliance the Central Church had to have been to let her out of their grasp. If he had been in Rhea’s position, he doubted he could have done it. He supposed that even a professor of her level could be replaced easily enough.

A person bearing a Crest lost to history, however, was a different category. In a way, Byleth’s fate had been sealed the moment her ability to wield the Sword of the Creator became public knowledge. If it hadn’t been the Gautiers, he was sure she would’ve been snatched up by someone else.

Felix felt sick again, his skin crawling as he imagined ownerless hands pawing at her body.

As if she knew he had been thinking about her, Byleth locked eyes with him across the field. She waved before returning to the fight, spinning her lance around to trip a knight going for her teammate.

She looked at home on the battlefield. She’d looked just as at peace the night of the ball, in Sylvain’s arms before everything had gone to shit. The selfish part of him had wanted to separate them. His uncertainty over who he wanted to whisk away was the only thing that had held him back. That and the voice needling at him that it didn’t have to by Sylvain or Byleth. It could be an and. But that was wishful thinking.

The same selfishness was what had him dancing with her and coming to Gautier territory. Felix wanted them both. An ugly want that replaced those ambiguous hands with his own as they traced over Sylvain and Byleth’s bodies. It was the want his father had warned him of. It was the want that would haunt him when he returned home to Fraldarius. Alone. 

He resolved then to only be selfish a little longer. Just until Sylvain woke up and a few more days after that to ensure he was okay. And no more than that. He was the third wheel, the unmarried one.

The unnecessary one.

His feelings simmered until they were practically boiling over. Felix had spent too many years with emotions too big for his body to lose control over them. Still, his movements were sharp, and he was certain Byleth had noticed.

When she opened her mouth on the ride back to the villa, he was certain she was going to ask him about it.

“I know I’m married,” she said, “but if Astrid asked me if I wanted to have sex, I would say yes.”

Felix jerked so hard on the reins, his horse reared back, and he had to grip with his legs so he wouldn’t fall off.

“What did you just say?”

“I said, I know I’m married-”

“I heard you the first time,” he snapped and felt heat rising to his face.

“You wouldn’t?” Byleth asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“She saw me in diapers.”

Her head cocked to the side before she slowly nodded. “Fair point.”

“But she is attractive. Someone would be blind not to notice that.”

Byleth laughed and the sound startled him so badly he almost yanked on the reins again. His head whipped around, and he saw the biggest smile he had ever seen on her face. It would be a small smile on anyone else. Still, it felt like victory.

*

Byleth seemed to be determined to drive him insane. It was that or she was just incredibly unobservant of the affect she had on people.

Felix had caught more than one Gautier knight blushing under their helmets after she had come over and helped them with their form or stance. She’d gone so far as to wrap her arms around a fresh recruit to adjust his grip on his sword and the man had gone so red Felix had thought he was going to magically transform into a tomato.

Fortunately, or rather, unfortunately, she’d gotten a taste of her own medicine. After falling off her horse for the third time in a quick turn maneuver, Astrid had plucked her off the ground and sat her in front of her in the saddle, allowing Byleth to feel the move through her body. After that demonstration, Byleth got it right on the first try.

Even worse was all the touching she directed at him. Typically, Felix disliked being touched. He had ever since Glenn had died. Dimitri was fond of shoulder pats that had his skin crawling and Felix hadn’t let his father hug him in years. Even Sylvain wasn’t completely exempt. There were only so many minutes of post-sex cuddles he could take.

After this many years, he was pretty sure he put out an aura of “do not interact.” Do not touch was a large part of do not interact.

Yet, Byleth seemed unaffected by his standoffishness and unaware of how often she touched him. It was a hand against his bicep after they sparred. A brush of her thigh against his during tea. Her hair brushing against his shoulder as she leaned in to read over his shoulder.

One day she fell asleep against him on the couch. Normally, Felix would just shove the person off, but she looked so tired, so peaceful, that he never worked up the nerve. She slid further down his body until her head was in his lap. By then, Felix accepted his fate. He carded his fingers through her hair twice before closing his eyes and letting sleep claim him too.

Only his before dinner report to Sylvain provided him an escape from the storm of touches that always left him hyperaware and too often hard.

Felix was used to having a one-sided conversation with him, but normally Sylvain was the one carrying it. With him still in a coma, Felix was left to carry the slack.

At first, it made him feel foolish. Like he was a child who had never felt the pain of losing someone he loved. But he came back again and again while Byleth was off doing whatever she did before their evening meals.

“Hey, Sylvain,” Felix said lamely. He had yet to find a better opening.

“It’s getting cold out. Actually cold. Not the half-assed cold at Garreg Mach. Real Faerghus almost winter cold. Byleth’s been wearing the coat you gave her. She made me try it on the other day. It’s warm. It was a good gift.” He took a steadying breath and grabbed one of Sylvain’s hands.

“It’s been a month since you were poisoned. We got a letter from Dimitri yesterday. He still hasn’t found who did this to you. What good is the title of king if he can’t even find one assassin?”

Not that Felix had been much help on that front. Guilt hit him like a tidal wave, and he had to lean over to rest his head on Sylvain’s stomach.

“I miss you,” he mumbled against the thick covers over Sylvain’s body. “I’ll kill you if you don’t wake up. You promised me we’d die together, and I have no intention of dying anytime soon.

“Please wake up.”

Felix let his eyes close, and indulged himself for only a moment, in imagining Sylvain waking up right now. 

Of course, Sylvain didn’t. And Felix was left watching the rise and fall of his chest until Byleth came and got him for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I know I'm like a month late but go check out the art (if you haven't seen it already) for Summer!Sylvain and Summer!Byleth from FEH if you want to be cured of the last section's angst


	11. Do I Wanna Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain wakes up. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain's POV is my favorite to write, probably because he's less emotionally constipated than Felix or Byleth

Sylvain, thanks to his Crest, had never experienced the full effects of a hangover. With his head pounding as if he’d been kicked by a horse and his mouth so dry it felt like he had eaten straight sand, he imagined it felt something like this.

With as much effort as he could manage, he cracked his eyes open. It took him a moment, but the stonework and furniture seemed familiar and it clicked into place where he was. His room in the winter villa.

What didn’t make sense was how he was there. The last thing he remembered was Felix and Byleth dancing and then the overwhelming feeling that something was horribly wrong.

He looked around his room as best as he could. Even turning his neck felt as if he was pulling a boulder with him.

A bit of moonlight trickled in through the window and the dying embers of the fire supplied just enough light to make out the two figures on the couch. Byleth’s head was titled back at an unfortunate angle with her mouth open just enough to make her breath audible. An open book sat in her lap. On her shoulder was Felix’s head with his nose buried into her shirt.

They looked cozy. Comfortable. As if they’d fallen asleep together accidentally, too enthralled with each other’s company to care for the inevitable cricks they’d have in their necks in the morning.

Sylvain closed his eyes, banishing away the hot tears threatening to fall. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. But he felt like he had seen something intimate. Something forbidden. Something that worked just fine without him there.

*

When he next opened his eyes there was a figure stoking the fire. The fire popped and crackled as it chewed the added wood.

He tried to call out, but his voice wouldn’t work. His throat spasmed around the sounds again, and still no words would come out. The figure turned and eyes the color of liquid gold widened in surprise.

“Sylvain,” Felix whispered.

He was over him in a second, likely using his Crest to get over so quickly. His hands came to his face wordlessly. It rested there for a moment before Felix recoiled as if he’d been burned. Sylvain tried to smile at him.

“Felix?” came Byleth’s sleep heavy voice. “Is everything okay?” Her gaze fell on him and she scrambled over almost as quickly as Felix had.

Her hand came to Sylvain’s chest and he felt the familiar feeling of healing magic tickling his skin. The magic stopped and then Byleth was hugging him, her chest pressing into his in a way that would be delicious if he wasn’t struggling to breathe. She backed off a second later, worry clear in her eyes.

“Let’s sit you up,” she said.

Felix grabbed one arm and she grabbed his other. Together, they maneuvered him, so his back was supported by what felt like an obscene number of pillows. The position helped with his breathing, but his chest still felt tight.

“What happened?” he managed to say after stumbling a few times.

Byleth grabbed his hand before she spoke. Her thumb rubbed wide strokes across his skin. “You were poisoned at the ball two and a half months ago.”

Sylvain’s muscles seized as he tried to sit up on his own. That was impossible. Felix’s hands came to his shoulders and gently pushed him back into the easy supported recline.

“That long?”

Byleth nodded.

“Who?” He couldn’t finish the question.

“We don’t know,” Felix answered, unable to look him in the face. His fists were clenched by his sides. “You were the only one affected.”

“Two and a half months,” Sylvain murmured. So much time just gone. And by the looks of it, Felix and Byleth had gotten closer while he was indisposed. He shoved down the emotions threatening to spill over and did his best to smile convincingly. “I’m glad you two weren’t harmed.”

“You’re an idiot,” Felix said, but it lacked its usual venom.

“Are you hungry?” Byleth asked. The concern had left her face, her normal blank mask firmly in place once more. Sylvain wasn’t sure what had caused the change.

“A little.”

She nodded and stood, squeezing his hand once more before releasing it. “I’ll get the physician and some food then.”

Sylvain watched her go before turning back to Felix. He missed the warmth of Byleth’s hands, so he reached out and grabbed one of Felix’s. The man allowed the contact but stared at their interlocked fingers with what he assumed was suspicion.

“Two and a half months,” Sylvain repeated.

“If you keep saying that, it will be the only thing you can say.”

“That’s just what parents say to try and stop their kids from being annoying.” Felix made a face, and Sylvain cocked his head. “Did something happen? Are my parents here?”

“No. They went home after the physician told them you probably weren’t going to wake up for a while.”

Sylvain searched Felix’s face for a hint of something, but he couldn’t find anything. Felix's eyebrow climbed higher and higher as he stared.

“Is there something on my face?” His tone was harsh, but like his earlier insult, it wasn’t nearly as heated as normal.

“Just your impeccable good looks, like always.”

He rolled his eyes. “You might want to save your charm for your wife. I think she’s considering taking the captain of the Gautier Knights as a lover.”

“Astrid?”

Felix nodded, looking unimpressed.

“I can’t really blame her,” Sylvain said. “I’d do the same if I thought there was ever a chance of being successful.”

He huffed. “You two deserve each other. Uselessly pining over people you can’t have.” He snapped his mouth shut, the meaning of his words hitting him too late.

“Guess it’s infectious,” Sylvain murmured more to himself than Felix.

A knock on the door interrupted them. The physician swept in followed by Byleth who carried a tray of food.

“Greta!” Sylvain said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. She’d been his family’s physician for as long as he could remember, and she’d patched up countless cuts and bruises of his over the years. “What are you doing here?”

“Watching over you, my lord,” the physician answered, her smile as genuine as his own. “Although, between the lady and the lord here fussing over you as much as they have been, I thought I was going to be out of a job.”

Felix’s face flushed while Byleth almost looked apologetic.

Greta prattled on, and Sylvain knew from experience that she knew exactly what her words were doing. “The young lord-”

“I’m not young,” Felix vehemently said, but Greta continued as if he hadn’t said anything.

“-has been shaving your face every day as if you had a stream of well-wishers coming to see you and you needed to look your best while in a coma.” She checked him over as she spoke, prodding and poking at his body.

Felix’s mouth opened and shut multiple times before Sylvain giggled, causing him to stop his floundering and snatch his hand away.

“And your dear wife,” and now Byleth did look embarrassed, and wasn't that an interesting expression on her face, “has been cleaning you and massaging your muscles to try to lessen the atrophy.”

“Did it work?” he asked. He felt horrible and looked like he had lost weight. He wasn’t certain with how thick the blankets covering him were.

“You haven’t lost as much muscle as I expected. I’m unsure if that was because of the lady’s efforts, the amount of healing magic that has been used on you, or from your Crest.” She gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. “That being said, no strenuous activity for at least a week. I want you to eat something solid before you try to get out of bed. Once you’re up and stable, I’ll give you some exercises to do.

“Any questions?”

Sylvain shook his head.

“Thank you, Greta,” Byleth said. “I’m sorry for rousing you so early.”

“Nonsense, my lady. I’ll let the rest of the staff know the good news.” Greta turned and smiled at Sylvain once more before exiting the room. The door clicked softly behind her and for a moment the air in the room became oppressive.

“I apologize for touching you without your permission,” Byleth said, her gaze directed down at her hands.

Sylvain’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion and he watched as Felix shifted uneasily. It took a moment longer for him to realize what she meant.

“Oh, the washing? I don’t blame you for finding me irresistible, but I can guarantee that the next time it happens, I’ll be sure to return the favor.” He winked and Byleth looked up in time to catch it.

It must have been the right thing to say because the tension left the room. Felix grabbed the tray of food and unceremoniously placed it in Sylvain’s lap. The tray was overburdened with the amount of food heaped upon it. Half a loaf of bread rested atop a selection of dried meats and cheeses. There was a still steaming bowl of broth and more types of dried fruit than he knew the kitchen had. A pot of honey completed the assortment.

“Eat something,” Felix ordered.

“I think I’m too weak to lift anything to my mouth.” He fake coughed. Felix looked like he was going to shove the entire loaf in his mouth when Byleth grabbed the bread and began methodically tearing it into small pieces.

Once finished, she dipped one of the small pieces into the broth before holding it in front of his mouth. “Here,” she said and looked at him expectantly.

“Byleth, he’s perfectly fine to feed himself.”

Sylvain ignored Felix and opened his mouth. Without ceremony, she plopped the broth-soaked bread in his mouth. The pads of her fingers gently brushed his lips as she pulled her hand away. He let his eye fall closed and moaned. The broth was good, not moan worthy, but it was worth it to see both Felix and Byleth’s reactions.

Felix stood there brooding with his arms crossed over his chest once more. Whether it was over Byleth indulging him or Sylvain acting like this, he didn’t know. What he did know, was that under the fuss he was putting up, he was happy to see Sylvain acting like himself because he didn’t try to stop her from doing it again.

She smiled this time as she offered another bite. Warm morning light streamed in through the crack in the curtains, so Sylvain couldn’t be certain if it was the lighting or if there genuinely was a faint blush on her cheeks.

They continued like that in silence for a few minutes with Felix getting increasingly outraged over the pampering he thought Sylvain didn’t need. Sylvain reminded him that he wasn’t the one who had been in a coma for over two months and that got him to stop.

Eventually, Sylvain couldn’t resist the urge that had been pulling at him since this began. This time, he caught her fingers before she pulled them away, scraping his teeth over them. Felix made a choked sound in his throat and it was Byleth who stared at him with an eyebrow raised.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” she said. “No strenuous activity remember?”

Sylvain closed his mouth and pretended not to notice Felix turning around to hide his blush.

*

That day he managed to get out of bed on his own and walk around the manor a few times. If he was being generous, he’d say that Byleth and Felix followed him like hawks. However, he wasn’t feeling generous, so their attention felt more like circling vultures, waiting for him to show weakness.

Sylvain only badly stumbled once, and Felix had been quick enough to grab his arm to stop his fall.

Worse was when Byleth insisted on carrying him back to the room after it. Felix watched the argument with far too much glee in his eyes before agreeing with her. The traitor.

When he finally relented, he thought she was going to offer him her back and he’d be piggybacked upstairs.

Instead, Byleth literally swept him off his feet and carried him bridal style. Sylvain knew she was strong. He’d seen her naked and certainly held her in his arms long enough to know how muscular she was. It was one thing to be lifted by Dimitri whose monstrous strength was undeniably due to his Crest rather than his muscles.

It was another thing to be lifted by someone a head shorter than him whose strength was more from hard work than an inborn gift. A mix of embarrassment and arousal shot through him, but he resisted the urge to bury his face against her chest and instead slung an arm over her shoulder to wink at Felix.

Surprisingly, Felix didn’t huff at him, but smirked back at him, an all too knowing look in his eyes.

*

By the fourth day of being confined to the manor, Sylvain had already started going stir crazy. He suspected it was from so much healing magic being used on him. His skin felt alive, buzzing and tingling from what felt like the aftereffects of being hit with a thunder spell. Every brush against his skin had him jolting.

He knew if he had a chance to work the energy off, he’d be fine, but Greta continued to deny his request. Felix and Byleth were more malleable.

“Please, let me come with you.” Sylvain wasn’t on his knees, but he would if it meant they’d let him come watch them train with the knights. “I promise I’ll stay out of the way. I just want to get out and I’m sure Old Bastard misses me.”

Old Bastard was his wyvern. A former stud, Sylvain had paid a hefty amount of gold coins to save the wyvern from having his wings cut off to “make him more manageable.” His father had been beyond furious when had found out. But after seeing Sylvain soothing Old Bastard down, he’d let him keep him.

As a result of his previous lifestyle, the wyvern was petulant at best and had an anger streak longer than the Great Bridge of Myrddin. He was likely to try and bite someone than anything else, and Sylvain was the only human he truly liked. Out of his friends, Ingrid was the only person Old Bastard had let ride on him. He tolerated the rest of them, and despite Dimitri’s best attempts, hated the king. Felix found the latter hilarious.

Although the Gautier Knights were primarily a cavalry unit, Sylvain had left his wyvern in their care while he traveled. After five months of no contact with Sylvain, he was sure to be more irritable than normal and Sylvain genuinely missed his cantankerous wyvern.

Byleth looked to Felix who shrugged as if saying the decision was in her hands. Her gaze returned to him and he did his best puppy dog eyes to date.

“Fine. You’ll have to ride with one of us on the way there. We didn’t saddle a third horse.”

The choice was easy. The last time he and Felix had ridden a horse together Sylvain had ended up in a patch of mud. The light dusting of snow that had fallen over night had already melted and he didn’t want a repeat of that.

“I’ll ride with you then, Byleth. It’ll give us a chance to snuggle in this bitter cold.” It also would let the villagers see him and Byleth together. Most of them should be familiar with her by now, but seeing them together and Sylvain awake once more, it should settle any tension that had been brewing.

Sylvain wrapped his arms around Byleth’s waist, letting her take the reins. Her body was a burning source of warmth against his front, and this way, if the horse bucked, they were both ending up in the mud. 

They were waylaid by a stream of well wishers and other expressing their happiness over his recovery. By the time they made it to the barracks, they were late. It didn’t seem to matter much because then the Gautier Knights were swarming them to tease and see Sylvain’s recovered state for themselves.

“Give his lordship some room, you’re crowding him so badly I’m surprised he can breathe.” Captain Astrid cut through the crowd like a ship across the water.

Sylvain hugged her when she reached him, earning him a hard pat on the back. “Captain, oh how I have missed seeing your lovely face. Rumors of you charming my wife reached my ears. I had to wake up at once to ensure I haven’t completely lost her affections.”

More than used to his antics, the knights laughed.

Astrid looped an arm around his shoulders. “If I knew that was what would bring your strength back, I would’ve bedded her for you, my lord.”

He smiled and joined in the laughter. Over the din, he barely heard Felix’s hissed, “It was a joke.”

Byleth stared back at Felix with a slight frown and opened her mouth to reply. Before Sylvain could say anything, he was swept up by the knights and taken to the stables.

Old Bastard distracted him from his racing thoughts over what part of the exchange had Byleth frowning and Felix irritated by pinning him to the ground and licking every part of his exposed skin. His tongue was rough, could strip flesh from bone if he put enough force to it. But Old Bastard was gentle enough that it just tickled.

For the rest of the day the wyvern barely let Sylvain out of his sight, growling at anyone and everyone who came near. Neither Felix nor Byleth attempted to. Felix didn’t because he knew better. Byleth didn’t because Felix probably told her not to chance it.

When it came time for them to leave, he only managed to get away thanks to a knight bringing a freshly caught deer for Old Bastard to devour. And even then, he was still licked a few times more.

Felix wrinkled his nose at his approach. “You reek of wyvern.”

“Is that better or worse than sweaty horse?” Sylvain asked, making a show of sniffing the air around Felix.

His eyes narrowed and his mouth opened, a scathing retort seconds away from being released, when Byleth said one of the most universally dreaded sentences.

“The three of us need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ik part of that was ~ominous~ because Sylvain was *eyes emoji* over the exchange he missed between Byleth and Felix. What the exchange literally was:
> 
> Byleth: Would she really do that? Isn’t she married?  
> Felix: It was a joke.   
> Byleth: So that’s a no?   
> Felix: *walks off, refusing to deal with the Thirst*  
> Byleth: How certain are you?  
> Felix: *walks faster*


	12. We Should Be Lovers Instead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three of them have The Conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added tag: polyamory negotiations
> 
> Also forgot to celebrate last chapter that this broke 30k words so *pops champagne bottle*

Sylvain tried swallowing and failed. His throat was too tight to listen to his command. Instead, he opted for wiping his palms on his thighs. He wasn’t sure when exactly they’d started sweating. More than likely, it was after Byleth made her proclamation. Unease wound tighter and tighter in his gut as he waited for the others to arrive.

She had said the conversation between the three of them, she had stressed that part, could wait until they were home and clean. Neither he nor Felix had questioned her request. Sylvain out of shock and Felix out of resignation, judging by the way his eyes had fallen closed at her words.

Sylvain had spent the ride back and his bath with his thoughts spiraling into various conclusions on what this “talk” could be about.

Normally when someone said they needed to talk it was never good. If Byleth had been a girlfriend, he would’ve assumed that this was her way of breaking up with him.

But she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was his wife and short of a few things happening, the divorce would never be approved. And while he had been in a coma for a while, he was fairly certain none of the qualifiers had happened, like abuse. Even then, abuse was something far too common in noble marriages and divorces for it were rarely granted. That was a topic of conversation that warranted its own talk.

No, Byleth was stuck with him in the legal sense. She could run away, but why would she tell him beforehand?

His next thought was the one that had him ashamed for even thinking it. As close as the two had become, he doubted they’d actually run off together, leaving Sylvain alone. Still, he had considered it a possibility and his lack of trust and hurt at even the theoretical abandonment made him feel even worse.

The possibilities only became more convoluted and less possible the more he thought about it. Byleth secretly was the Maiden of the Wind and it was time for her to go now. Byleth had taken a lover with a Crest and was pregnant with their child who would have their father’s Crest, damning them all. Miklan had risen from the grave and threatened her to leave or else. She had had enough and decided to follow her true passion, juggling, and was going to join a circus. She had fallen in love with a demonic beast.

They only got worse from there.

Sylvain attempted to swallow again. This time, he was successful and the slight decrease in his tension allowed enough of a respite to take control of his breathing. He had been hyperventilating and focused on slowing his inhales and exhales.

By the time Felix entered, he had gotten his breathing under control.

The man, his best friend, his lover, his on again off again boyfriend, whatever exactly Felix was to him, looked emotionally pained. Which wasn’t an unusual expression on him. Just one Sylvain hadn’t seen in such an intensity in a while.

Unsurprisingly, Felix had his swords with him, probably to make him feel safe. He knew he slept with them when Sylvain wasn’t there.

Felix’s gaze the swept the room, looking for something, or rather someone, who had yet to arrive. “Where is she?” he asked.

Sylvain shrugged. “Her room probably.”

“This isn’t her room?”

“This is my room. Hers is the next one over.”

Felix’s lips curled. “How traditional.”

He shrugged again. Felix seemed to be in one of those moods where he’d bite and bark at anyone, regardless of what was said. He watched as he paced around the room, circling the sitting area like a shark.

“You’re going to make yourself dizzy,” Sylvain said.

He didn’t respond.

The silence broke moments later. Byleth entered with a tray in hand. This time it was encumbered with pastries, mini sandwiches, and a steaming pot of tea. It was so typical of her that Sylvain didn’t notice until she put the tray down that her face was schooled into what he had been calling her blank face of discomfort.

She silently poured the tea into three cups, ignoring Felix’s pacing and Sylvain’s open staring. She sat opposite of him and the distance felt damning.

“Felix, will you join us?” Her voice was as blank as her face.

His pacing stopped, somewhere behind Sylvain. His footsteps seemed to echo through the room until he sat on the other end of Sylvain’s couch. He wished he had sat closer so they could hold hands. The physical contact would’ve helped ground him.

“Tea?” She gestured at the cups she had poured for them. Neither of them moved to take them.

She inhaled and exhaled audibly before taking a small sip of her tea, likely steeling herself for whatever ruinous thing was about to come out of her mouth.

“The three of us should have sex.”

He heard more than saw Felix whipping his neck to stare at her, too busy with his own gawking to glance at the movement. Byleth’s mask fractured under the combined stares and worry entered her expression.

“I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I practiced this and that’s not how I wanted to say it.” She took another steadying breath. “I want you two. I want to have sex with you both. Separately or at the same time.” Her face screwed into a grimace. “That sounds even worse.”

She tried a third time. “I like you both. I have liked you both since before the ball. I was going to say something after it, but then well, things went to shit. I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I wanted to address it before things got more complicated and in the hopes that we could have a conversation about it, however short or long it needs to be.”

All Sylvain could focus on was the fact that this was the most he’d ever heard Byleth say at once. The actual content of her words was so far removed from what he had expected that he could barely process them.

“Is this a joke?” Felix asked, recovering faster than he could.

A flicker of hurt passed over her face before she schooled her face into its impassive mask once more. “It’s not. I meant, I mean, every word.” She looked between the two of them. “Do you not believe me?”

He became all too aware of how small she looked all alone on the couch. It was easy to forget how much shorter she was than him with how muscular and scarred she was. But alone over there with her hair still damp she looked small. Vulnerable. Exposed.

“I do,” Sylvain said. “I’m just confused. I cheated on you.” The words were unfamiliar in his mouth.

“That was my decision too,” Felix added as if any of them forgot. “We both cheated on you.”

Byleth slowly nodded. “And I cheated on you too. Felix and I have kissed twice.”

Felix scoffed. “I kissed you the first time and the second hardly counted as a kiss.”

“I kissed back, and the second time does count. Don’t deny it.”

“When was this?” Sylvain asked.

“Back in Fhirdiad. We had been sparring,” Felix said, the faintest hue of pink visible on his face.

That was unsurprising. Fighting competent people was debatably his biggest turn on. Sylvain had been on the receiving end of his post-spar amorous affections more times than he could count.

“The other was here. The day after we arrived,” Byleth said.

“I see.”

“I’m not going to lie and say being cheated on didn’t hurt. It did, but given the circumstances, I understand why it happened.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. “I feel bad that I came between you two, that we’re in this situation at all. I understand if neither of you want me for that reason.

“And I understand if you two want to continue your relationship without me.”

“I – we,” Sylvain stammered. His thoughts earlier were coherent compared to the swirling mess of them now. “Why?” Why would she want them? Why him?

Felix shook his head, cutting her off before she could answer his question. “You aren’t thinking clearly. I’m just convenient and you’re stuck with Sylvain.”

“Hey –”

He continued on as if Sylvain hadn’t interjected. “You’re lonely. What do you think will happen if a relationship with the three of us became common knowledge? I’ll be the seducer, you the whore, and him the cuckold. Every single brat you have will have their legitimacy questioned.”

“Felix,” Sylvain began, but this time Byleth cut him off.

“Don’t patronize me.” Her tone was low. Her eyes flat. “If you’re that appalled by the suggestion that we have sex, then say that outright, not whatever that was.”

“That was reality. There are already rumors swirling around town that I’ve stayed this long because you begged me to stay to continue fucking you.”

He hadn’t heard any of the rumors himself, but it was unsurprising that they existed.

“And that bothers you?”

“It should bother you.” Felix threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“I’ve had worse said to me that was more accurate.”

“Like what Lonato said to you at the opera?” Sylvain asked. “Or what he said to you at the ball?”

“I knew something had happened,” Felix said.

“He said I was Rhea’s whore, sold to the highest bidder to spread my legs.” She switched the cross of her legs. “Like I said, I’ve heard worse. I was a mercenary, remember?

“I can take the insults, but if it bothers either of you that much, just say it. Or at least say something productive.”

Felix glared, his arms crossed over his chest and Sylvain knew he would have to speak up first. It was either that or wait for one of them to tackle the other.

“I want you both too. Felix, I’ve loved you for longer than I’ve probably known, and, Byleth, with a body like yours, what’s not to love?” He winked and waited for her put down, but she seemed relieved more than anything else. “I doubt it will be easy and there’s definitely some hang ups to work through, but what’s the harm in trying?”

“And if it fails?” Felix asked, sounding hesitant. “If two people end up wanting each other without the third? I’m interested, but…” he trailed off.

With that, everything clicked. He was scared he was going to lose Sylvain, to lose whatever tentative thing he had built with Byleth. And here Sylvain had been worried about him losing them. And if Byleth’s words had been true, she was worried about them leaving her out. What a trio they made.

He scooted down the couch until he was close enough to wrap his arms around Felix, drawing him into a one-sided hug.

“You can’t promise it won’t happen,” Felix said but his voice was already losing its edge.

“I can’t, but you can’t claim with certainty that it will,” he said.

“All we can do is be open and honest with ourselves and each other,” Byleth said and joined in the hug, seating herself on the armrest.

“I can’t stay here forever. I have my own responsibilities,” Felix mumbled into her arms.

“That’s never stopped us before,” Sylvain said. “Think of all the reunion sex there will be. All that desperation and urgency.” A grin spread across his face. “I bet you’ve already thought long and hard about this already, Fe. Was it her lips around your cock? Me rimming you? You fucking me while Byleth sits on my face? You can tell us.”

Felix made a frustrated sound and then an elbow was digging into his side so hard he had to back off. The intensity of his glare was far less threatening with how deep he was blushing.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking how full I’d feel with both of you inside me at the same time,” Byleth said, causing him to whip around and redirect his glare at her. “What?” she asked, playing innocent. “You want to fuck my tits instead? You two could come on them, if you help clean them up after.”

Her words and the mental image of what she described went straight to Sylvain’s dick. He hadn’t expected this level of forwardness this quickly. He hadn’t known what he had expected.

“What I’d like,” Felix began, “is for both of you two shut up. And then I’d like to fuck Sylvain while he fucks you.”

“Aww you don’t want to cuck me?” He laughed but stopped when he saw Byleth’s small frown. “What is it?”

“I don’t want to get pregnant. At least, not right now.”

He nodded. “That’s probably for the best.”

“Who here is currently taking contraceptives?” Felix asked. “I am, but I always do.”

“Greta’s been slipping me some against my parents’ orders.” He realized it was probably because the physician knew Byleth didn’t want to get pregnant.

“I’m not.” At their surprised glances, she shrugged. “It was a part of the marriage contract that I don’t until an heir is secured.”

“You should be fine with both of us taking something, but I’m sure Greta will hook you up, if you ask,” Sylvain said. “The woman gives out birth control herbs like she never wants another baby to be born in Fodlan again.”

“Every time I’ve visited since my fifteenth birthday, she’s given me some. I don’t want to know how many people she thought I was fucking with how much she gave me,” Felix added dryly.

Byleth laughed, a soft sound that had Felix smiling and relief coursing through Sylvain.

“I’ll ask then, just to be safe.” Her fingers came to her wedding ring and she twisted it. “My mother died in childbirth. There were…complications.”

Sylvain reached out behind Felix to rub her hand. He watched Felix’s hand coming to her knee and squeezing. They were quiet for a few moments. He took the time to contemplate his relationship with his parents. Honestly, they were horrible, but they were his. Even with everything they had put upon him, done to him, he couldn’t imagine his life with one of them missing. Not knowing his mother sounded weird and Byleth had almost lost her father too.

“Sorry that killed the mood.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“It was probably for the best,” Felix added. “We shouldn’t rush into anything.”

Even though he said that he reached for Byleth and pulled her until she sat in his lap. Her legs came up to rest across Sylvain’s thighs and he snuggled in towards Felix once more.

“So, you only had your dad growing up?” he asked. He couldn’t imagine a life without a sibling, even one as horrible as Miklan had been to him.

She nodded. “For the most part. We traveled with his mercenary company, but I was Jeralt’s kid. When I was too young to fight, he’d leave me in a nearby town and pay someone to watch over me.” Her fingers came to her ring again and she played with it. “I had an imaginary friend of sorts, though she didn’t talk much. That was it.”

“No siblings?” Felix asked.

“No. My father was my mother’s first love and I don’t think my father had any others. I think I would’ve liked to have a sibling. It would’ve been less lonely.”

Sylvain squeezed her knee.

“What about you, Felix?” she asked.

He stiffened before responding. “I had an older brother named Glenn. He died in Duscur protecting the royal family.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Byleth said.

“It’s fine.”

Sylvain kissed his cheek and Felix’s stony facial expression faltered.

“He was an amazing swordsman. If he had lived, I honestly don’t know which one of you would win a match.”

Byleth looked like she was deeply considering his statement. “That depends.”

“On what?” Sylvain asked.

“Is anyone watching?”

Sylvain cocked an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. Predictably, Felix cut him off before he could speak, going as far as shooting him a half-hearted glare.

“Why does that matter?”

“If I was still a professor and it was a match to show off certain techniques, I’d focus more on the moves than winning. If it was in a tournament or a match, I’d be more focused on winning.”

“You wouldn’t try and show off if we were watching?” Sylvain asked, genuinely curious. He definitely would.

“I don’t have to show off to get your attention.” The cocky statement was punctuated by a slight twist of her lips.

“That’s probably true,” Felix admitted. “However, if you didn’t take it seriously, Glenn would’ve demolished you. He died before I could win a single bout.”

“Better than the first time you beat him also being the time you killed him,” Sylvain said and immediately regretted his words. “Sorry, that was unfair. Glenn was so much better at well everything, but especially a better brother than Miklan was.”

“It’s fine. I don’t have the monopoly on dead brother trauma.”

Sylvain made eye contact with Byleth and winked. “Still find us sexy?”

She blinked. “Of course.”

Sylvain let his head fall against Felix’s shoulder, Byleth’s legs a reassuring weight on top of his own, and his eyes closed. He breathed in steadily, and for the first time in far too long, he felt happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: life is busy and I'll be skipping an update here soon. So if I post on 9/16 the next update won't be until 10/14 but if I don't post on the 16th the next update will be 9/30


	13. Touch a touch a touch me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic earns it explicit rating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to clog up the main tags, so any chapters with explicit content will have tags posted here. If it comes up, anything "serious" like a kink rather than sex acts will probably make it into the main tags.
> 
> Tags for this chapter: threesome, cunnilingus, fingering, vaginal sex, hand jobs, cum eating

She knew she was dreaming but the terror Byleth felt as she watched in slow motion as the red-headed girl stabbed Jeralt was real.

“You’re just a pathetic old man. How dare you get in the way of my brilliant plan…you dog,” the girl said, but Byleth was already turning back the wheels of time.

She saw the attack coming this time and extended the Sword of the Creator to stop her. Her attack was blocked with the sudden appearance of Thales. But she’d killed Thales already, hadn’t she? She’d saved her father when Kronya, not whoever this girl was, tried to kill him. But Thales was very much alive here.

She tried again and again until the divine energy was gone and all she could do was watch her father crumple to the ground.

Byleth rushed over to him, magic failing to heal his wounds. The blood didn’t stop its steady flow.

“Sorry. It looks like I’m going to have to leave you now,” he said, his voice already weakening.

Her throat was too tight to speak. Her vision blurred and something wet streaked down her face.

“To think that the first time I saw you cry your tears would be for me. It’s sad, and yet…I’m happy for it. Thank you…kid.”

It started to rain.

And then she was in a different field, Sylvain staring her down from atop a war horse. A smile was plastered to his face while the rain tamed his normally unruly red hair.

“Professor! Has it really been five years? We ought to raise a glass to the occasion. Celebrate your return.” His smile turned into a sneer and his tone dropped. “Nah, I’d rather commemorate it with your death.”

He moved to attack her, urging his horse forward and bringing down the Lance of Ruin but it was her weapon that hit first. His body crumpled to the ground. The mud splattered upon his impact and mixed with the hot blood streaming from the wound in his chest. The wound she’d put there.

The dream shifted again. She was indoors. In a castle maybe. Someplace Byleth had never been, but she moved through the enemies in front of her, cutting a path to her target.

Felix cried out. Her head whipped towards the sound. An axe jutted out his chest as he laid upon the ground.

“Where’s my weapon?” His hands scrambled for his sword. “Damn it! Can’t see anything…”

He was dead by the time she reached him.

Byleth jolted upright. Her face was wet with tears and her breath was sharp and quick. She knew it was just a dream, but it had been so lifelike. Like it had actually happened. The only other dreams she’d had that felt like that had turned out to be Sothis’ memories or, somehow, the battle at the Red Canyon that neither she nor Sothis had been at. Well, the Sword of the Creator had been there.

This, though, had been something else. They felt like her own memories.

Byleth had had nightmares somewhat like this. In them, it was Kronya trying to kill Jeralt just outside the Monastery as he left for a mission. In reality, Byleth had been there to save her father. The knife had gone in deep, leaving him with a permanent limp, but Byleth hadn’t come from a hard battle. She had plenty of magic to stabilize him long enough for Manuela and Rhea to arrive and save him.

She’d dreamt of that day, but in her nightmares, she was never able to lessen the flow of blood. The last time she’d had one of those nightmares, it had been months before her engagement to Sylvain. She had woken up into a cold sweat and ran to Jeralt’s rooms to check that he was okay. And if he had held her until she cried herself back to sleep, only the two of them knew.

Byleth glanced back to the bed. Without her in it, it was empty. Sylvain had walked Felix to his room and hadn’t returned. She wasn’t jealous. Their conversation had been long and probably confusing for the two of them. They needed time to process and reaffirm what they had together.

Their faces, blood stained and death pale flashed in her mind. The impulse to check on Sylvain and Felix thrummed over her skin now. It was a silly, childish impulse, something akin to asking a parent to check for monsters under the bed, not that she had ever done that. But if she didn’t check, she’d never be able to go back to sleep.

She crept out of the bedroom and her breath was visible in the air. Every night seemed to be colder than the next. Even she felt the chill of the deep fall through the floorboards and it was only going to get worse. She would’ve put on shoes, but Felix’s rooms were just down the hall.

Unsure if she should just try the handle or knock, Byleth hesitated in front of the oak door. She settled for knocking. Boundaries should be respected. The sound of cloth moving came clearly through the door. There was a murmur from voices, but she couldn’t make out the words.

“It’s Byleth,” she whispered.

The door opened, revealing the fact that Sylvain hadn’t bothered to put on pants. His mouth was open as if he was about to say something, but he closed it when he saw her face. His hands came up and his thumbs rubbed under her eyes.

“Have you been crying?” he asked sounding confused and horrified.

“I had a nightmare. I had to come check on you two.” She peered around him and saw a rumpled looking Felix sitting up in bed. “You both look fine, so I’ll go back now.”

It was Sylvain who stopped her from leaving with a hand on her wrist, but it was Felix who spoke.

“Come to bed,” he said and then yawned.

Sylvain tugged on her wrist and she followed him, stopping to relock the door behind them. When they got to Felix’s bed, a hand between her shoulder blades encouraged her to get in first. Felix laid back down and pulled Byleth towards him, so they lay face to face. Sylvain slid in and pressed his chest to her back, throwing an arm over Felix and Byleth’s intertwined forms after pulling the covers up.

Felix yawned again. “Do you need to talk about it now?”

She shook her head and both men snuggled closer towards her. Byleth felt safe and protected between them. Felix’s breathing evened out first. It had been months since they’d slept in the same bed, but Sylvain seemed to be waiting for her to fall asleep like he used to do.

“You sure you don’t need to talk now?” Sylvain’s voice was a whisper that tickled at the shell of her ear.

“I’m sure. I feel better already,” she whispered back.

He kissed the back of her head in response. When the lure of sleep pulled her under, Byleth knew Sylvain was still watching over her and Felix.

*

Byleth awakened feeling pleasantly warm with a hand carding fingers through her hair. She had braided it before sleeping. It was too long to not to, otherwise it ended up everywhere, so it must have gotten loose in the night. Her chest was pressed to someone’s back and her head felt like it was pillowless.

She opened her eyes and got an eyeful of raven hair. Tilting her head back, she locked eyes with Sylvain who had propped himself up on the pillow she had fallen asleep on.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

“Good morning,” she replied.

They stared at each other for a moment, a soft smile on Sylvain’s lips, before Byleth gave into her impulses and pulled him down to kiss. The angle was awkward with her neck rotated as far as it would go, and Sylvain not propped high enough to make it smooth, but the kiss was nice. More than nice. It felt right like the first time they had kissed and truly meant the emotions behind it.

Byleth tried to twist her neck further to get a better angle until her neck cracked, startling them both. They broke apart and Sylvain struggled not to laugh, biting his lip to stifle the sounds.

Byleth wasn’t laughing but she was smiling. She rolled over, careful not to jostle the still sleeping Felix, and pulled Sylvain into another kiss. With her neck no longer threatening to snap, she was able to fully enjoy the press of his lips against hers. They came together too eagerly, and their teeth clicked together, but it just had them pulling apart briefly to smile and readjust. This time their mouths met at the perfect angle the slide of their lips together was easy. She opened her mouth to deepen the kiss and Sylvain took advantage and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Byleth bit back a groan at the feeling and it seemed to spur him on even more.

They took turns exploring each other’s mouths in a languid pace as their hands wandered. Her right hand was trapped under his head, but her left roamed his body. Trailing her nails down his neck earned her a groan and hitching a leg over his hips got her a full-blown moan that ended with Sylvain grinding himself against her. The feeling of his cock hard against her stomach had arousal shooting to her core, and she became all too aware that she was already wet.

One of Sylvain’s hands had been playing with her breasts and a particularly hard pinch at one of her nipples had her moaning, only for the sound to be cut off when Felix’s voice interrupted them.

“If you two are going to fuck this early in the morning then don’t do it in the middle of the bed,” Felix said sounding exasperated rather than irritated.

Byleth made to pull away, to apologize, but Sylvain held her firm against his chest.

“Don’t want to join in?” Sylvain asked just a little out of breath.

She couldn’t see Felix’s face, but she knew from the grin on Sylvain’s that he must be scowling or pouting. It was pretty much the same thing to Felix.

“I want to go back to sleep.”

“How about I give you a very pleasant image to fall asleep to instead?” He didn’t wait for answer. Instead, he winked and then he was meeting Byleth’s gaze looking far too pleased with himself. “Can I eat you out?”

“Yes,” she said simply.

Sylvain scoffed, but he rolled onto his back and patted his collar bone. “I think that’s the least enthusiastic response I’ve gotten to asking to eat someone out before. Felix, tell her I’m amazing at oral.”

Felix said nothing. Byleth looked at him as she shimmied her underwear off, handing them to him when she was done with a smile. He stared at her indignantly as she shuffled forward, then sent a glare at Sylvain when he started laughing.

“I’m going back to sleep,” he finally said but he was still holding her underwear and his eyes remained on them. 

Sylvain shrugged when she looked at him and then hooked his arms around her thighs, pulling her the last few inches to his mouth. When he spoke, his breath was hot against her thighs and core.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for months. Is there anything you particularly like or dislike?”

“I like cumming,” she said.

He snorted and the air had her attempting to squirm away from the unexpected stimulation, but his arms on her legs held her still. “That’s a given. Relax and enjoy the ride.” he said and started mouthing at her thighs.

Byleth had expected him to just go for it, not to tease. He laved at her skin, before pulling it between his teeth and biting. She liked being bitten, probably more than she should, and her soft sighs at the nips had him biting down harder until his teeth threatened to break skin.

“Fuck,” she hissed out and Sylvain licked at the spot he had just bitten in a half-hearted apology. He had nothing to apologize for. Byleth felt wetter than she ever had before and distantly wondered if she was dripping onto his face.

If she was, Sylvain didn’t seem to care. He worked up her left thigh, his jaw was barely brushing her folds, only to pull away and attack her right thigh. He kept biting harder and harder until she let out a hiss that was more from pain than arousal. This time, his kiss was a full-blown apology, so Byleth patted his head to let him know it was fine. She thought she felt Felix’s gaze still on them, but couldn’t bear to tear her eyes away from the sight of Sylvain’s red hair between her thighs.

Sylvain’s hands gripped her hips just a bit tighter and that was all the warning she got before Sylvain was licking a long stripe up her cunt, flicking her clit with his tongue.

“You taste good,” he mumbled before going in for another long lick. “And already so wet even though I’ve barely started,” he teased.

Byleth reached down and gently flicked his forehead. Felix snorted, earning both Byleth and Sylvain’s attention.

“I thought you were going back to sleep?” she asked.

“Sylvain promised a show. All I’ve seen is heavy petting,” Felix shot back.

The line of heavy petting had been crossed long ago, but the challenge worked in redirecting Sylvain’s attention. Byleth shot Felix a thankful glance as Sylvain resumed his ministrations. He was going slower than she was used to, but she wasn’t about to complain about him taking his time. He seemed to want to methodically take her apart, testing out different angles and patterns against her folds, pausing to take in her reactions before adjusting and going in again.

By the time he turned his attention to her clit, her thighs were trembling from the not quite enough stimulation. She was even less prepared for the onslaught of his mouth directly on her clit, licking and sucking and ever so gently scraping his teeth against that had Byleth falling forward to grip the headboard.

“Sylvain,” she said in a not quite whine.

He hummed against her in question, but she didn’t have the words to articulate what she wanted to say. He kept going for her clit and she felt how swollen it was, felt the tension building in her belly. And then he backed off and she really did whine.

He placed an apologetic kiss to the inside of her thigh and went back to the teasing licks before building her up to the edge again and again. Edging was something Byleth had done on a couple of partners but had never experienced herself. She didn’t know whether she loved it or hated it.

“You look like you’re about to cry,” Felix said directly in her ear, and she flinched. Too caught up in the sensations, she hadn’t noticed him inching closer. Sylvain, to his credit, didn’t let himself be interrupted this time.

“I found your hair ribbon,” Felix said simply as if that explained his sudden change of interest. He held it up so she could see before he gathered her hair and tied it up in a loose bun on top of her head, so it was out of the way. His hands went to her sleep shirt next, removing her hands from the headboard so he could pull it off and throw it off the bed. And then he sat back on his heels, just watching and Byleth was confused by the attention.

Sylvain thrust his tongue into Byleth, finally entering her, and she keened. Felix’s eyes dropped down to her chest. Byleth realized that she was breathing quickly, her breasts rising and falling with each inhale and exhale.

“Do you like your nipples played with?” he asked, and she nodded.

That was all the permission he needed. His hands came to her tits, thumbs skimming her nipples, as he leaned in and kissed her, forcing his tongue into his mouth. Kissing Sylvain had been teasing, playful even.

Kissing Felix was nothing like that. Unsurprisingly, it felt like sparring, but with her attention divided, she couldn’t put up much of a fight. She let him set the pace of the kiss, and realizing he won, he backed off a little, but still nipping at her lips here and there. He rubbed lazy strokes across her nipples as Sylvain fucked her with his tongue. Someone’s hand, probably Felix’s, came to her clit and teased his fingers across iit.

The tension snapped. Her orgasm slammed into her from the various sensations. Her mind blanked and all she could focus on were the hands and mouth on her that didn’t let up as she road it out.

As her thought process came back after one of the most intense orgasms she had ever had, Felix broke apart from their kiss looking smug. Sylvain was still licking away at her, having returned his attention to her clit sometime in the last few seconds. Each swipe of his tongue had her flinching from the overstimulation.

She brought a hand down to tug at his hair, but it didn’t stop him. If anything, it spurred him on further, snaking a hand up and easily sliding two fingers in her. Byleth moaned and Felix swallowed it up, realigning their mouths in a long, desperate kiss.

When he broke it off for air, she expected him to just dive back in. But his attention pivoted, and he began nipping and sucking his way down her neck to her chest, leaving love bites in his wake. She felt his erection pressed against her leg and if she had more space in her brain to think, she’d jerk him off, but she was barely holding on as it was.

Far too soon, a second orgasm started building, as if the first had never truly ended. Her hands were shaking now. The one in Sylvain’s hair was probably gripping his hair too tightly as she ground across his face, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Felix’s mouth played with one of her nipples while he teased the other one with his fingers. He pulled off the one he had been laving at with a pop and blew. The sudden cold against her nipple had her jerking in their grasp. Sylvain took it as his cue to slide another finger in. He curled the fingers inside her against her g-spot as he sucked on her clit and Byleth was cumming again, filling the room with a moan as her vision went black.

This time, the two backed off after the last spasms of her orgasm, leaving Byleth free to shift her weight back and sit on Sylvain’s chest. She was probably making it hard for him to breathe but she needed to catch her breath before she could move off him completely.

“That was...” Byleth trailed off.

“Intense? Amazing? Exceptional? Two of the best orgasms of your life?” Sylvain helpfully supplied.

She nodded.

Felix snorted but his gaze was filled with affection. “I can’t believe you came that quickly the second time.”

“I can,” Sylvain said. “I know my way around a pussy.”

He winked and Byleth rolled her eyes before glancing back at his swollen erection. Felix’s was still pressed against her leg and looked as if it desperately needed attention too.

“Do you two want to get off?” she asked. They were hard but neither of them had made a move yet. She didn’t want to assume anything.

Surprisngly, it was Felix who spoke first.

“I want to watch you ride him,” he said. “He is still technically supposed to be recovering.”

Byleth looked to Sylvain who nodded. On still uneasy limbs she scooted herself backward until his cock was poking at her ass. From what she’s seen of it before, it was a nice cock and big enough that if she hadn’t already cum twice and had three fingers in her, she’d prep some more.

“What about you?” she asked Felix.

“Jack me off?” It was a question directed at her and Sylvain, and they both nodded.

Byleth reached down and swiped at her cunt, hissing at the contact, but coming away with more than enough slick to generously coat Felix’s dick. He was a good size too, a little thicker but not as long as Sylvain was. She pumped him a few times, causing his eyes to shut.

“Shit,” he said. “I’m not going to last long.”

“That’s fine,” Byleth said and leaned in to kiss him, pumping his cock a few more times before letting go.

Sylvain took over the motion and she watched for a few moments, taking notes for later. Felix seemed to like his tip played with, if the hiss he let out when Sylvain dragged over it was any indication. Satisfied she knew a little of what he liked, she lifted her hips and positioned Sylvain’s cock at her entrance. Both men watched her as she slowly slid down, until he was fully seated inside of her.

“You feel so good,” Sylvain said and Byleth leaned over to kiss him too.

She felt full and a little bit overstimulated too, but in a way that had her skin buzzing and her mind still clear. They broke apart their kiss and Felix swooped in to claim Sylvain’s lips. Byleth rocked her hips in time with their kiss and watched as Felix swallowed down his moan.

Feeling steadier, Byleth didn’t bother planting her hands on his chest to steady herself before lifting herself up. His cock almost slipped out of her before she dropped back down, taking him completely once more. The impact was audible enough that it startled Felix out of the kiss. He stared, eyes hungry and wanting.

“Fuck,” Sylvain said. “By, you feel so fucking good.”

“You already said that,” Felix said. He probably meant his reply to have heat in it, but the addition of Byleth’s hand on his dick had his voice going rough instead.

“But it’s true,” he said.

“It does look hot,” Felix admitted, and that had Byleth smiling. The two of them looked hot.

Sylvain was about to say something else but then Felix was kissing him again, fucking into the grip their hands had on him. When they kept kissing Byleth wasn’t certain if it was because he was just that into making out or just trying to shut Sylvain up. Something she could figure out another day.

Seeing them together like that had arousal shooting to her core once more, but she still felt just a bit overstimulated, so she focused more on getting them off than chasing a third orgasm.

With that idea in mind, Byleth drew back her hand from Felix’s dick, earning her a cut off whine, and focused on making Sylvain unable to think. She increased her pace, rocking as he bottomed out inside her. The sound of their skin slapping together was louder than their kissing now. The faster pace had Sylvain’s kisses turning sloppy, and his free hand came to her hip to steady her or bring her closer.

“Look at me,” she ordered, not really caring who listened.

They broke apart to watch her fuck herself on Sylvain’s dick. Both of their eyes were blown wide. Sylvain’s breaths were getting faster and faster, hitching on a failed successful inhale every now and then.

“I’ve thought about this for a while,” she admitted. “Ever since we went to the opera. You promised me you’d show me what a real man looks like.”

His breath hitched and Felix stared hungrily at them both.

“Thought about both of you a lot.” She made a show of palming at her tits. “Masturbated to the three of us together. Of us all fucking like this.”

“Fuck, me too,” Felix said.

“This is so much better than I imagined,” Sylvain managed to say.

“Then be good and cum for me,” she said, not caring who listened.

Felix’s eyes slammed shut as Sylvain completed a downstroke, and then he was cumming over Sylvain’s chest, milky cum standing out even against the paleness of his skin. Byleth reached up and skimmed a couple of fingers through it. Sylvain watched her slip her fingers into her mouth as she sunk all the way down him, and then he was cumming too, choking back a whine. His hips jerked against her and she felt his cum hit her walls.

The room stilled as Byleth swallowed. Sylvain’s hands were still fisted in the sheets and Felix had fallen back against the bed. Their chests rose and fell in rapid succession.

Felix recovered first. He cracked a golden eye open to look at her when he spoke. “You good?”

Byleth nodded and slipped off of Sylvain who hissed at the slight overstimulation. “I want to cuddle.”

Felix rolled over and patted the space between him and Sylvain. She easily slotted her body between theirs and kissed Felix, lacking any of the urgency of before.

“I want kisses too,” Sylvain whined, and it was Byleth who flicked his shoulder.

“Be patient,” she said, and kissed Felix some more before breaking off and kissing Sylvain.

When they separated, Sylvain was grinning. “So how good was it?”

“Acceptable,” she said.

His jaw dropped and Felix chuckled.

“You could hurt a man’s ego saying things like that,” he said.

“I think I’m hurting two men’s ego’s in this case.”

“My ego isn’t fragile enough to be hurt be the word acceptable,” Felix said and yawned. “I am going back to sleep though. The sun’s barely up and we don’t have training with the knights today.”

“He’s just tired because he’s had sex twice in twelve hours and cumming makes him sleepy,” Sylvain whispered conspiratorially in her ear.

Byleth laughed, earning her a weak glare from Felix. “Sleeping in does sound good,” she said, but when she looked Sylvain was already back asleep.

“And he was making fun of me,” Felix said with another yawn. His eyes fell shut and she was surrounded by the sound of their steady breathing.

Byleth should get up and clean them all off, but first she was going to stay and enjoy the feeling of them both next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! Extra huge thank you to everyone who left a comment! They mean the world to me and keep me inspired. 
> 
> Life has been tough so idk when I'll be able to update next. Hopefully it won't be as long of a time between updates again. But I hope this chapter's length and content ;) makes up for it
> 
> (Also fun fact: some of the dialogue in Byleth's nightmare is taken from the game. Sylvain's dialogue is actually what he says to m!Byleth. Sylvain says to f!Byleth: Professor, there’s something I should admit. I’ve got some regrets about how our lives have gone. I should have made a proper attempt to woo you before now. Instead, I have to kill you.)


End file.
